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A Romance of Providence. 

Being a History of the Church of the Stran- 
gers, of New York, of which 

CHARLES F. DEEMS, D.D., is Pastor. 



Edited by Joseph S. Taylor. 



The work contains 

A Finely Executed Portrait of DR. DEEMS, 

Together with other illustrations especially designed for it, 

which render it one of the most attractive books 

of its kind. 



The Chrhtia.it at Work says : " Many who have hitherto known but little of 
the marvellous workings of this Church, yet have heard of its existence, will be 
deeply interested in the srirring recitals of its triumphs." 

The National Baptist says : " The history is certainly fascinating. The story 
is well told, well illustrated, and deserves a careful perusal." 

H. C. Hovky. D^D., in the Religious Herald^ says: u It is more fascinating 
than most works of fiction." 

Christian Advocate (Raleigh, N. C.) says : " It is a book to be read by Pastor 
and by Church members of all denominations of Christians. It is brimful of practi- 
cal suggestions, and the fact that so large a portion of the life and history of Dr. 
Deems is interwoven with this surprising narrative will give it additional interest to 
many readers." 

Wesleyan Christian Advocate says: " It is useful. The book is worth many 
times its cost," 

The Chautauquan says : " Readers will find it an interesting and profitable 
work, and one which may suggest to others methods of Christian work." 

Andrew A. Lipscomb, D.D., LL.D., formerly Chancellor of the University of 
Georgia and Emeritus Professor in the Vanderbilt University, saysj " 'A Romance 
of Providence ' is most interesting, and it sustains its well-chosen title. I am heart- 
ily glad that this volume has been given to the church and to the world, the narra- 
tive is most attractive and inspiring — nay, more, it is really inspiring." 

256 pp. cloth. Price, $1.25, net, post-paid. 

WILBUR B. KETCHAM, Publisher, 71 Bible House, N.Y. 



Sunshine for Dark Hours 



A BOOK FOR INVALIDS, 



COMPILED BY 

CHARLES F.^DEEMS, D.D., LL D., 

Pastor of the Church of the Strangers, New York. 




New York . 
WILBUR B. KETCHA.M. 

Edinburg: JAMES GEMMELL, 

1889. 



^nM 5& 






If this little book prove acceptable it may be followed by 
another. Contributions, original and selected, are respectfully 
requested. Send -what has been a comfort or a help to you, It 
may help or comfort another. Let your name and address ac- 
company it. Forward it to the compiler of this volume, care of 
the publisher, whose address is on the title-page. 



Copyright, 1888, by Charles F. Deems 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS, 



& 

My Own Case. 

At the age of. eighteen I quit college licensed 
to preach. I commenced my lectures in the 
University of North Carolina at the age of 
twenty-two. At the first date I weighed ninety- 
five pounds, at the latter one hundred and five. 
Until about three years ago I never knew what 
it was to spend a day without some ache or 
pain or sense of uneasiness or discomfort. 

I have preached on the four continents in a 
ministry covering forty-nine years and two 
months, and in all that time have been kept 
from the pulpit by bodily indisposition only 
eight Sundays, and four of those were occa- 
sioned by the spraining of an ankle. 

On the third Sunday of July, 1866, I com- 
menced the labor which originated the " Church 
of the Strangers."" It began by an engagement 
to preach four Sundays in the chapel of the 
University on Washington Square, in the city 
of New York. That engagement was extended 
until a congregation grew around me which 
crystallized into a regular Catholic Apostolic 
church, wholly independent but working in 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



loving concord with all the other churches of 
Christ in the great metropolis. I preached eight 
years and five months with but one Sunday 
vacation ; then I spent three weeks in Florida, 
and then worked on with very little rest until 
January, 1880. Then I spent six months on a 
visit to the Holy Land. Returning, I was in my 
pulpit from the second Sunday in July of that 
year until the first Sunday in September of 1888, 
preaching in that or some other pulpit every 
Sunday except two, taking in the meantime only 
four days of real vacation, between two Sundays. 
During twelve of those years I was editor of, 
first the Sunday Magazine and then of Chris- 
tian Thought, which latter I am still editing; 
and have had on my shoulders the responsibility 
of the presidency of the American Institute of 
Christian Philosophy since its formation in the 
summer of 1881. 

On the first Sunday in September of this 
year I fell in my pulpit while leading the 
prayers of the congregation. I was unconscious 
but a few moments. Two dear friends who are 
members of the Church of the Strangers, Drs. 
Albert L. Turner and Charlton E. Gulick, 
united with Prof. Janeway in exiling me ; and 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

now for three months I have not seen the inside 
of that beloved church. 

I make this record for three purposes. 

(1) I wish to set up an Ebenezer to the good 
grace of the Lord our God who hath led me 
thus far. 

(2) I wish to testify that I firmly believe 
that I never should have endured such a strain 
of work for so long a time if I had not, with a 
considerable degree of conscientiousness, obeyed 
the Sabbath law by keeping one day in each 
week sacred from the intrusion of all pro- 
fessional studies and labors. 

(3) In sackcloth and ashes I wish to set up 
my case as an " alarming example "to any other 
minister of our Lord Jesus Christ who may 
be tempted to be as unwise in this particular as 
I have been, and to urge upon all congregations, 
having such a pastor as I have been, to unite 
in making him behave more sensibly on pain of 
peremptory dismissal. 

It is very gratifying to be able to say that 
the first two weeks of my exile were cheered by 
the loving attentions of a Christian family at 
the foot of the Berkshire hills in Rensselaer 
county, in this State, and the remaining eleven 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



have been spent in the Sanatorium at Dansville, 
N. Y., under the care of Dr. James H. Jackson. 

While editor of the Sunday Magazine I was 
accustomed to give a chapter in each number 
called the "Invalid's Portion." In the Sana- 
torium I have met about two hundred ladies 
and gentlemen from all parts of this country 
and some from foreign lands. They have con- 
stituted a more cheerful, mutually forbearing, 
kind, and Christian family than I ever dreamed 
existed on this planet. Their personal kindness 
to me will be one of the dearest chapters for 
memory both in this world and in the next. 
At morning prayers I read several little things 
and invited any in the house, who might feel so 
disposed, to send me original or selected articles, 
such as they thought would be interesting to in- 
valids. In that way grew this little volume to 
which one of the ladies gave the name of " Sun- 
shine for Dark Hours." It is published as a 
souvenir and in the hope that it will be profit- 
able to many a person shut in by sickness from 
the activities of ordinary life; and to them, on 
my birthday, it is now dedicated. 

Chaeles F. Deems. 

December 4th, 1888. 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. i 

A Song at Midnight. 

" Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns, 
The earliest pipe of half -awakened birds." 
The Poet sings of slumb'rous chirp to greet 

The first faint flush in tender eastern skies, 

With pause of fuller song, till richer dyes 
Define the dim horizon. But more* sweet 
It is, 'neath midnight's star-wrought vault — full meet 

To arch that blossom-broidered land which lies 

In southern beauty, — with a rare surprise 
To hear the mocking-bird his strain repeat. 
Then, mimic art forgetting, forth he flings 

His rapture to the stars; the listening air 
Perfumed with jasmine incense, lends it wings. 

So thou, my Soul, thy melody may bear 
In sorrow's shadowy night — Faith upsprings 

Beyond the stars, nor waits the daybreak fair. 

Miriam P. Mason. 



LIFE FROM A WHEELED CHAIR. 

[This article first appeared in The Advocate and Guardian, 
and was afterwards published by the husband of the writer 
in a pretty ten cent volume and has been widely circulated, 
giving help to many similarly afilicted. It may be ordered from 
Mr. Daniel Waterman, Utica, N. Y. ] 

That life is a battle goes without saying. 
And battles are always interesting to read about, 
to hear of, and even to look upon, provided we 
are at a safe distance. There is something in 
heroism that captivates us, inspires us ; but if we 



8 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

are in. the midst of a face to face, hand to hand, 
inch by inch conflict, in whatever aspect it may 
appear to outsiders, to those personally con- 
cerned in it the heroic element is not apparent. 
That is left to be embodied in song or story, 
or cherished in memory, long after the com- 
batants have gone beyond the reach of fame 
or glory. If we live in this world we must 
fight or shirk; and the most of us, in our pres- 
ent depraved, mortal conditions, like to fight 
something or somebody. But we all would 
like to choose our foes, our battle-fields, our 
ammunition and our generals. 

A friend suggested that I should describe 
"The daily combats of a confirmed invalid." 
No easy task, I assure you. 

I have said that we all like to choose our 
battle-fields. Mine had been an active, busy 
life, amid pleasant surroundings, and with 
more freedom of body and mind than falls to 
the lot of most women. Before my illness, I 
could walk and run like a girl; and nothing 
but the indignity it would offer to my gray 
hairs prevented me from jumping over the last 
thiee steps of every flight of stairs I came 
down. But the blow came suddenly, and, 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



almost in a moment, I was disabled, crippled, 
helpless, ordered to the rear by that fearful 
disease, rheumatism. 

At first I was conscious only of those in- 
describable agonies which accompanied my 
torturing malady. To be out of pain I would 
have given a kingdom ; at times my own soul. 
I would have relinquished the love that was 
dearer than life, for one hour's respite. 

After months of racking pain, succeeded 
months of exhaustion and depression, in which 
the strongest feeling that possessed me, was to 
be allowed to crawl away into some dark corner 
alone and die. Even the love and sympathy of 
friends, the tenderness and unwearied kindness 
of my physicians fell unnoticed and uncared for. 
To die was bliss, was heaven. But I was not to 
die. I was to live, but how ? To be carried 
where I had walked; to be helped and tended 
and waited upon; I, whose motions had been 
so quick, that while others were getting ready 
to move, " could have gone, and done, and got 
back again " ; to look upon the world from my 
chamber windows, or catch passing glimpses of 
it from brief outings in a wheeled chair. These 
were my captain's orders ; this my battle-field. 



10 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

Mind, soul and heart, all but the body rose up 
in mutiny. " This can not — shall not be," I 
said. " This is to be," was the answer : 

Yours not to make reply, 
Yours not to reason why; 
Yours is to live, not die: 
No one has blundered. 

I am not to be discharged from the service, 
I am to be kept in it, detailed for such duties 
as my weakness and wounds will permit. I 
must still wear the uniform and keep my 
armor bright. And the warfare that I must 
wage can not be conducted on any prearranged 
regulation plan. It consists mostly of single- 
handed skirmishes with guerillas. They swoop 
down upon me in the shape and guise of my 
"wants," at the very break of day, for I awake 
generally with the sun. 

I never realized how our whole life is made 
up of gratified wants, until I came to this ex- 
perience. I want to turn over in bed ; I can't. 
I want to get up ; I must wait till it is time. 
I never did when I was well ; I rose out of 
season as well as in season if the desire pos- 
sessed me. I want to be bathed and dressed, 
and have my hair brushed and see the morning 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 11 

paper, and oh ! how I do want to go out into 
the kitchen and look into the refrigerator and 
the pantry, and to arrange the dishes a little 
differently on the breakfast table, and pour out 
the coffee for my husband, putting in just the 
right quantity of cream and sugar, as I used to 
do. But instead, I am to sit by and look on, 
being the constant recipient of the most loving 
attentions, but unable to do even one thing for 
myself or for anybody else. 

Oh, the delight there is in the daily serving 
one's self as well as those we love. If you 
don't believe it, just allow yourself to be tied 
hands and feet for a month, and try being 
served. Do you suppose the angel Gabriel 
could button your shoes, or pin your collar, or 
tie your bonnet strings, as you would do it 
yourself? Did anybody ever arrange your 
books, or your flowers, or your furniture pre- 
cisely as you would do ? It might be a thou- 
sand times better, but your personality is 
absent, and one might as well try to wear 
somebody else's clothes and feel fitted, as to 
attempt to live comfortably in another's sur- 
roundings ; and an invalid's surroundings are 
not her own, except to a limited extent. 



12 SUNSHINE FOLl DARK HOURS. 

Then besides these guerilla troops of one's 
wants, are the daily combats with aggravations. 
My handkerchief has fallen from my lap, and I 
cannot reach it, and my nurse is for a moment 
beyond call. My book is just an inch and a 
half beyond my finger's touch. There is a 
fly crawling on the back of my neck, gloating 
in the knowledge that he can't be brushed off 
by me. A large bumble bee has flown into 
the room and is circling around my head with 
malice in every buzz. My foot itches, my arm 
aches, there's a hair-pin pulling at a single hair, 
and I, helpless, can only sit still and meditate on 
the total depravity of the entire animate and 
inanimate creation, thus to take advantage of a 
fallen foe. And I look at the Irishman in 
front of the house, bringing in coal, and a 
Dutch woman washing my neighbor's win- 
dows, with a feeling of positive envy, such as 
in the days of health I had never felt for any 
mortal man or woman. 

A confirmed invalid is liable at any moment 
to sudden and violent attacks of other mala- 
dies than the one in whose constant grip he is 
held. We all know that when a powerful 
enemy is making things lively for any country, 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 13 

then is the time for a general rebellion among 
the colonies. Sinews, joints and muscles have 
joined forces, and stiffly refuse to obey my 
orders. My heart and lungs, stomach and liver, 
get up little scrimmages on their own individ- 
ual account ; and all through my system there 
is created a state of things which strongly re- 
sembles the condition of our country during 
the late "unpleasantness." 

Besides, invalids are especially at the mercy 
of their nerves; and of all the lawless, con- 
temptible, treacherous disturbers of the peace 
of one's body, nerves stand at the head. Mine 
occasionally run riot. At times I feel myse]f 
in the hands of a wild mob ; I can't conquer 
them as I used to ; or frighten them, or reason 
with them, or pacify them. They assert them- 
selves in every inch of my body. Strong- 
nerved lookers-on will say sometimes, when I 
am writhing and cowering in their cruel grasp, 
" Don't be alarmed, it is nothing serious ; this 
is only a nervous attack." Who is alarmed? 
And if there isn't anything serious in it, there 
certainly isn't anything funny. What would 
those antediluvian sinners have thought if they 
had heard Mrs. Noah, looking calmly out from 



1 4 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

the windows of her refuge as they were just 
going under, placidly remark, " Don't be alarm- 
ed, this is only a deluge." And how soothing 
to the feelings of a man who has been blown 
out of his very boots and landed half a mile 
from his home, to be told complacently, as he 
shoots overhead, by some one looking up from a 
tornado cave, " Don't make a fuss, a cyclone 
isn't anything." My state of mind is somewhat 
similar when I am quietly assured that " nerv- 
ousness is nothing." 

But there came to me a more bitter struggle 
than any of these I have mentioned. It was 
when realizing that my life was hopelessly 
ruined, my rebellious will, my questioning 
heart and impatient temper, my whole self, 
gathered itself together for a desperate, but 
impotent resistance. But this terrible struggle 
was fought to its bitter end ; and at last there 
came to me a childlike trust in the wise order- 
ings of Him whom we call " Our Father." 
Then a new chapter opened in the history of 
my experiences. There is a peace born of 
struggle, a victory secured by defeat. And I, 
sitting day by day in my wheeled chair, look- 
ing out upon the world, in which I shall never 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



15 



take an active part again, feel that there have 
come compensations which are real and satis- 
factory, and I am glad to be able to testify to 
them for the sake of my sister sufferers. I can 
only touch upon a few. 

Of two things I am profoundly conscious. I 
have a body, a battered wreck of a body hardly 
worth the name, but the body is not I. 

There were times when pain and weakness 
seemed to have gained a temporary mastery; 
but underneath the fiercest agony and the ut- 
most exhaustion, through delirium and fainting, 
when the very shadow of death hovered close 
to my side, a something within me, not flesh 
but spirit, still remained unconquered. I can't 
describe it, I only felt it ; and, ignorant and un- 
scientific woman that I am, I can stand and 
smile calmly and confidently in the face of all 
the naturalistic theories of our scientists, and 
be knocked down flat by their specious argu- 
ments and logic, and after every "knock-down," 
I will pick myself up and say as I said to 
disease, " There is something inside of me which 
you have not, which you can not touch. My 
body imprisons me, fetters me; my brain 
wearies me, my heart saddens me, but there is 



] 6 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

something still left which, is not imprisoned 
or fettered, wearied or saddened. I feel it, I 
know it. Explain it." 

Then from the axis of my wheeled chair the 
world itself has a different and ever-changing 
horizon. The circle sometimes so small, fifteen 
feet square bounds it, then so large that it 
stretches far beyond the slopes of the hills 
north and south, and the sun-tinged clouds of 
the east and west. When self is in the centre, 
it is the fifteen feet. When my thoughts are 
wandering off to where other sufferers, crippled 
soldiers like myself, lie, where is the limit? 
The brotherhood of suffering is as wide as the 
brotherhood of man ; and when one can open the 
heart and drive the demon of self out, it does 
not stand empty long. There are angels just 
outside waiting to come in; pity, sympathy, 
tenderness, and love. And there is this com- 
fort always : while we must not be selfish, we 
can be strongly individual and unconventional. 
The world goes on ; we are not in it, happy are 
we if not of it. Society runs in grooves and 
ruts, and our church life has its rules and rou- 
tines ; I am independent of both. What do I 
care, for instance, for the fashions ? My gowns 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



17 



are only subject to the laws of comfort and 
adaptability. 

" Bustles may come, and bustles may go, 
My wrappers go on forever." 

I needn't dress for dinner, for tea or for 
breakfast for that matter. Mrs. Grundy would 
make no remarks whatever if I should sit up 
in bed and drink my coffee attired in an afghan 
and my stockings. Society makes no demands 
upon me, does not ask the first thing of me. 
No calling upon people that you don't care a fig 
about, simply because they are in your set, or 
your church, or your neighborhood. And what 
are lunches and dinners and five o'clock teas, 
and kettle-drums to me ? Or church fairs, or 
hospital bazaars, or charity theatricals? Oh, 
the bliss of not being put upon this committee, 
or that committee, wearing out your shoes and 
your patience, neglecting your husband's but- 
tons and stockings, to do that which is often a 
weariness to the flesh, and a positive injury to 
the spirit. 

But although society's doors are shut to me, 
that which makes true society, friends, ah ! 
My pen fails me here, my eyes fill, my heart 
throbs as I write of them. I never dreamed 



18 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

that such love and generosity, and tenderness 
and sympathy were in the world. The first 
anemone or trailing arbutus of the spring is 
sent to me ; the last rose of the summer gar- 
den is culled for me. Rooms fragrant with 
flowers, while the winter winds howl without ; 
luscious fmits heaped in daintiest dishes to 
tempt the appetite, and sweeter and more re- 
freshing than all, the words that have fallen 
from friendly lips. The brave, cheery words 
of my doctor, words even more helpful and 
strengthening than the tonics he brings. The 
comforting, quieting assurances of my pastor, 
the pettings, and coddlings, and caresses of 
those nearest and dearest, and the helpful 
hands everywhere stretched out, for the thou- 
sand offices which helplessness requires. These 
can not be enumerated or summed up by any 
arithmetic I have ever studied. Occasionally, 
a well-meaning but " tactless " visitor will rasp 
me by allusions or comparisons; mournful 
allusions to her own wretched state of 
health, when she is enjoying a physical condi- 
tion I should considei* paradisiacal, or compar- 
isons of my blissful condition with some more 
deeply afflicted sufferer, whom I can not help, 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 1 9 

or insinuating that different medical treatment 
might have resulted in my entire recovery. 
Then there are still left in this world unmistak- 
able descendants of Job's three comforters, 
whose pious admonitions, kindly meant, but in- 
judiciously expressed, act upon me in certain 
nervous conditions like the breathings of Satan. 
They arouse in me such a mortifying exhibition 
of the old Adam, that I have to make several 
excursions into the valley of humiliation and 
repentance before I can recover my spiritual 
equilibrium. But such visitors are few and 
far between, not worth mentioning. They are 
only little slivers, that irritate for the time, but 
when removed are easily forgotten. 

Among the pleasantest experiences of my in- 
valid life are the new friendships I have formed. 
Friends whose faces I have never seen, by let- 
ter, by messages, by books, have knocked at 
my chamber door and been welcomed in ; and 
by some spiritual magic have grown into old 
friends at once. I have one in my mind, who 
folded a piece of herself in a little silken 
banner which, hanging over my couch, whispers 
a perpetual message of peace and comfort. 

Books are becoming more and more to me 



20 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

like living people. I am only able to read by- 
snatches, and am learning to catch things on the 
fly. I have to do with books as I do with the 
dainties sent to my table; a taste here, a sip 
there, is all that is permitted me. One would 
think that the mixture of dishes served up to 
me would produce a mental dyspepsia. Shakes- 
peare and Samantha Allen, Browning and Uncle 
Remus, Fenelon and Sam Jones, Tennyson's last 
poem, and "The Owl and the Pussy Cat," be- 
sides occasional nibbles at the literature of the 
day; a little theology, or science, or poetiy, 
flavored with delicious extracts sent to me in 
little cards and pretty books. Each and all en- 
joyed without a twinge of conscience either as to 
the time or the manner of my literary lunches. 
No neglected household duties stare me in the 
face ; no uncomfortable suspicion that I ought 
to be doing something else. My conscience is 
behaving with great discretion in regard to 
most things, particularly on the subject of my 
" doings." A friend sent me this scrap of con- 
densed wisdom, worthy of Solomon : 

" Do what you can, 
Not what you cannot ; 
Not what you think ought to be done, 
Not what you would like to do ; 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 21 

Not what you would do if you had more time, 
Not what somebody else thinks you ought to do, 
But do lohai you can." 

Sewing, knitting, crocheting, embroidery, my 
piano, household cares,- these are things of the 
past. What can I do ? Only one thing : I can 
write. My first attempt, after a year of utter 
helplessness, was to write a note of ten words, 
with the softest crayon pencil. After some 
months I wa3 able to hold a stylograph and 
write an hour at a time. I am now struggling 
with a typewriter. As I am only able to use 
one finger, it is slow work, but I am gaining 
upon it. Scribbling was one of my youthful 
pastimes and follies. We do not always out- 
grow 7 them. 

One childish trait, lost for a time, has come 
back to me : an enjoyment of the little pleasures 
of life. 

I look out upon the earth with almost child- 
ish eyes, on the flowers and birds, the clouds 
and the sunshine. I forget that there are theo- 
ries of evolution, and natural selection, and 
wind currents, and ether waves. All speak 
straight to my heart, as if they came fresh and 
new from the hand of God. Sometimes I am 



22 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

afraid that my interest and sympathy will be too 
much drawn away from the human in this 
world. I am much more interested in the do- 
mestic affairs of a pair of white doves, just out- 
side the library window, than I am in those of 
my neighbors; particularly since the mother 
dove died and the disconsolate widower, after 
driving me nearly wild with his mournful 
cooing, suddenly brought home a young step- 
mother, which, of course, created a disturbance 
at once. And my righteous soul has been very 
much exercised about the irregular life a profli- 
gate robin is leading. He tunes up at all hours 
of the night with a reckless jollity that suggests 
bacchanalian revels. And I, lying awake in my 
bed, have mildly remonstrated with him for 
such conduct. 

An invalid's nights are fruitful sources of 
queer fancies and vivid imaginations. For 
months my sleeps were a series of " cat naps." 
In the intervals I have built hospitals, and com- 
posed verses, fortunately forgotten by morning; 
I have gone down into " Wonder Land " with 
Alice, and "Back of the North Wind" with 
Macdonald. At other times I have counted the 
clock-ticks, and conjugated French verbs, and 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 23 

watched swinging pendulums and jumping flocks 
of sheep, in my vain endeavors to go to sleep ; 
but sleeping or waking, by night and by day ; 
through visions and fancies, the fact of my in- 
valid condition is ever present with me. 

So my chapter of experiences ends. 

This outline of my personal history for four 
years is incomplete, but as far as it goes, true in 
every particular. If it were all filled in, it 
would make a book equal to that Chinese novel 
in two hundred volumes. The mystery of 
suffering completely baffles us, but the ministry 
of pain can be partially understood if we are 
willing to learn the lesson. If it can do nothing 
else for us, it can bring us into fellowship with 
the "Captain of our salvation," who, Himself, 
was made "perfect through suffering." 



Patience is the ballast of the soul that will keep it 
from rolling and tumbling in the greatest storms. 

— Bishop Hopkins. 



It is impossible for that man to despair who remem- 
bers that his Helper is omnipotent. — Jeremy Taylor. 



24 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



Not in Vain ! 

Not in vain, oh not in vain, 

Is the sowing of the seed : 
Though in the ground it long hath lain, 

It will grow to bless man's need, 
And the larger wealth will bring, 
For seeming oft a hopeless thing. 

Not in vain, oh not in vain, 

Is the earnest life and true, 
For its record shall remain 

All succeeding ages through, 
And for this — that it hath been, 
Other souls to virtue win. 

Not in vain, oh not in vain, 

Is the gift however small, 
If in trusting love we fain 

Will bring it Him who loveth all, 
And lay it at His blessed feet, 
Who will receive the offering sweet. 

Not in vain, oh not in vain, 

Trial sore and anxious fear, 
If at last sweet peace we gain, 

And the Dear Lord's voice may hear, 
As we yield our fleeting breath — 
"Faithful stewards unto death ! " 

Mrs. Sarah B. Kitchen. 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 25 

James Brainerd Taylor's " Miss W ." 

Some of those situations in life which appear, 
at first sight, least favorable to extensive useful- 
ness, may be so improved by a holy disciple as 
to become a fountain of many streams. In the 
memoir of James Brainerd Taylor, there is 

frequent mention made of a Miss W . 

The name of that lady was Pamela Wigton. 
While spending the winter of 1839 in the city 
of New York, the Rev. Mr. Janes (afterwards 
Bishop Janes) invited the writer of this sketch 
to take an appointment to preach every third 
Thursday night, in a private house, in conjunc- 
tion with himself and Dr. Bangs. The invita- 
tion was accepted. I found the place in the 
third story of a house in a small street in the 
lower end of the city. A long, dark, narrow 
passage, where two persons could scarcely walk 
abreast, led to a winding flight of stairs. At 
the head of this I found a room of moderate di- 
mensions, very plainly, but very comfortably, 
and even neatly furnished. Propped with 
cushions in a rocking-chair, sat a lady of about 
fifty-five years of age, very interesting in her 
whole appearance, but very emaciated, and 
almost unable to assist herself in any respect. 



26 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

The oftener I visited her, the more and more 
lovely did she appear. For more than twenty 
years, I think she told me, she had been con- 
fined to her room, and a large portion of the 
time to her bed. Once she had been able to be 
carried carefully to a steamboat, and to go a 
short distance up the Hudson river. She suf- 
ferred frequent and acute, and sometimes pro- 
tracted, pain. I have sat for hours at her feet, 
listening to her conversation, which was rich in 
memorials of many prominent persons and 
events, but still richer in a varied and pro- 
found Christian experience. Sometimes, for 
whole minutes, paroxysms of pain w^ould seize 
her, and I could tell when they w T ere coming by 
the increasing pressure of her hand ; and then 
she would be silent for a short time, and the 
twitching of her features betrayed the agony 
which the firm and devout expression of her 
eves showed she was endeavoring to endure in 
the strength which God supplies. Then her 
hand would relax, and her features fall into 
their usual play, and, with an ejaculation of 
thanksgiving, a tear or two, expressed by pain, 
standing in her mild eyes, while mine were 
moist with sympathy, she would ask to be re- 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



27 



minded of the subject of our conversation, and 
resume her remarks with a cheerfulness which 
I could scarcely comprehend. Every attention, 
no matter how small, she would receive with, if 
nothing more, an appreciating look, which made 
it a pleasure to smooth her pillow, or adjust her 
cushion, or hold a cup of water to her lips. So 
beautiful was grace in her, that it soon became 
a delight to be in her presence. Many a time 
have I walked whole blocks in a dark and rainy 
night, and often when in pain myself, to be 
soothed and strengthened by an example which 
preached endurance with a wonderful power, 
and a voice made musical by love. Though 
dim of vision, she seemed instinctively to know 
the state of my feelings from the tones of my 
voice ; and when sick and jaded, I came to hev 
from some public service, or from my desk, she 
would part my hair with her trembling hands, 
and kiss my forehead with a motherly affection 
that made me feel like a child, and then talk to 
me of Christian heroism, and of the noble souls 
who have toiled in pain for the fadeless crown, 
till I felt the spirit of a man revived in me. 
No one knows how many an hour I have spent 
in that obscure place, nor the blessed influences 



28 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

which that holy invalid exerted over my youth- 
ful ministry. 

It was a preaching place, as I have said. 
Those who heard Bishop Janes often, know the 
peculiar character of his preaching ; how full it 
was of Christ and Christian consolation. Per- 
haps some of the very finest of those thoughts 
and expressions which won the almost loving 
attention of the thousands who waited in crowds 
upon his ministry, were uttered in that little 
room to half a dozen persons, Methodists, Bap- 
tists and Presbyterians ; for all classes and de- 
nominations, who knew Miss Wigton, delighted 
in visiting her. By much the best sermon I 
ever heard Dr. Bangs deliver, was preached at 

Miss W 's from I. Peter ii., 7 — "To you, 

therefore, which believe He is precious." The 
light that played on the invalid's face was a 
beautiful and forceful commentary upon the text, 
and a striking corroboration of the sermon. 
In the long period of her illness, she had en- 
joyed the services of many of the Lord's ser- 
vants, and her recollection of their discourses 
and conversations furnished her with abundant 
materials for the entertainment and edification 
of her visitors. 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



29 



Who would not say, at first sight, that her 
scope of labor and of usefulness was very limit- 
ed? She was sick, weak, in pain, confined to 
her room, subsisting upon the benefactions of 
others ; withal, she had no superior intellectual 
gifts, and had had very little advantage of edu- 
cation. And yet, her influence was felt in the 
far West of America, and in Europe. By the 
assistance of her friends, she maintained a cor- 
respondence with Christians at great distances, 
who had been profited by her example and con- 
versation. I acted as her amanuensis in writing 
to a clergyman in the West, who had entered 
the ministry as a man would enter upon the 
practice of the law. After a few years of al- 
most utter uselessness, he became acquainted 

with Miss W . She soon found that 

he "had not the root of the matter in him," 
that he was destitute of a proper knowledge of 
salvation, and had no personal interest in the 
atonement. She commenced to make his de- 
ficiencies manifest to himself. He became con- 
vinced that he was a sinner. His agony for 
some time was very great ; but with a holy 
wisdom she led the stricken sinner to the Lamb 
of God, and there at her feet he was converted, 



30 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



and returned to his people a new man in Christ 
Jesus, ready to do a great work. When John 
Summerfield commenced his ministry in Amer- 
ica, he received much spiritual nursing from his 
mother in Israel. She loved him dearly. It 
was delightful to hear her talk of the young 
disciple. When James Brainerd Taylor first 
went to New York as a subordinate clerk, I 
think, in some establishment, he was very 
thoughtless and wayward. His brother took 
him to see Miss W . She became inter- 
ested in him at once, and succeeded in winning 
him to her. There was nothing querulous, 
peevish, disagreeable, or repulsive in Miss 

W . The young could love her. She 

soon gained a mastery over the mind of young 
Taylor. By degrees she interested him in re- 
ligious subjects, and then in the subject of his 
personal salvation, until " the day dawned and 
the shadows fled away," and he was a free 
man in Christ Jesus. The Lord led him to the 
work of His ministry, and during his prepar- 
atory studies, he was instrumental in turning 
many from darkness to light. The Lord took 
him from the evil to come, but not before he 
had opened springs which shall flow down 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



31 



through the history of the Church. The letters 

which he wrote to Miss W , she preserved 

as a sacred memorial of his excellence and holi- 
ness. Some of them appear in his memoirs, 
and I have had the pleasure of having for a 
short time in my possession the little green bag 
in which they were so carefully deposited. 

What an example of endurance, in these 
latter times! No mission to China, or to the 
islands of the sea, could be sublimer than hers. 
She was a living witness to the triumphs of 
faith over poverty, suffering, and confinement. 
She was poor, but made many rich ; she was 
unknown, and yet well known ; she had nothing, 
and yet possessed all things ; she was dying, yet 
I behold she lived. How many young ladies in 
our churches would look upon imprisonment for 
twenty years in a chamber of sickness as being 
a prolonged death ! O ye daughters of ease, 
i learn to look upon your lives in the blaze of for- 
tune and fashion as despicable, when compared 
with hers. Ye that are sick and poor, and wish 
to do something for your Lord, " learn" not 
only " how sublime," but how Christian and 
how useful "a thing it is to suffer and be strong." 
A holy life — that is usefulness. Holiness of 



32 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

heart, in His members, is the lever with which 
His people must lift the world to lay it at the 
feet of Christ. If all the young were like 
Taylor, and all the aged and suffering like Miss 
W , how lovely would Christianity be- 
come in the eyes of the world, and how power- 
fully would sinners be attracted to the Cross. 
I have written this sketch in the hope that the 
example to which it points may not be lost upon 
young women, who by and by may be afflicted 
and in old age. There is no power in the uni- 
verse to stay the irresistible influence of any hu- 
man being whose soul is sanctified by the Spirit, 
and whose life is devoted to the work of Christ. 

CHARLES F. DEEMS. 



Sonnet. 

By the late Feanois A. Hillabd. 
[Kindly contributed to this book by Mrs. Hillard.] 
Whek from the narrow round that hems me in 

My chafing spirit rages to get free, 

Scorning just laws for natural liberty, 
And haughty grown, a wider sphere would win; 
I do bethink me what my lot hath been, 

How small vexations like a wasting sea, 

Do fret my temper to extremity, 
And leave me spent where I would fain begin. 
Then say — As Heaven adjusts our strength and weight, 

Nor greater burden give than we can bear, 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 33 

But each a spirit equal to his fate; 

So my poor task- work done with revereno care, 
More hallowed is than aims beyond my state: 

Lord! keep me constant where my duties are. 



Sustaining Grace. 
By Key. Dr. Plumer. 

I once heard an eloquent discourse on the 
power of divine grace to sustain and comfort in 
great affliction. The preacher has been for 
years very favorably known on both sides of 
the Atlantic. He still lives to love and be 
loved by thousands. He illustrated his subject 
by the recital of some incidents in the life of 
one whom he had personally known. His state- 
ment was substantially as follows : 

" While I was a student at Hampden Sidney 
College, there was a young man in the county 
of Prince Edward who was afflicted with one of 
the most painful of all the diseases to which 
the human frame is liable. It was a spinal af- 
fection of the most aggravated character. Be- 
ing entirely dependent on others for support, it 
became necessary to make some permanent ar- 
rangement which would secure for him the con- 
stant attention he required. Through the in- 



34 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

terventiori of some benevolent peTsons connected 
with the institution, he was transferred to one 
of the rooms of Union Theological Seminary, 
and an arrangement was made by which the 
students of the seminary, in turn, waited on 
him day and night. After he was transferred 
to their care I often visited him, and had abun- 
dant opportunity of knowing what he suffered 
and how he bore the painful visitation to which 
he was subjected. 

" So contorted was he by his malady that he 
could not lie in a horizontal position, but was 
propped up by pillows placed under his head 
and shoulders, and he was so bent that usually 
his chin rested on his breast. At times, it gave 
him acute pain to partake of his necessary food. 
In some way the optic nerve was implicated, 
and so keenly sensitive did he become to the 
light, that it was necessary to exclude it, as far 
as possible, from his room. A close curtain 
was drawn across the single window behind his 
bed, and by night a shaded lamp was all that 
was permitted in his apartment. As an ad- 
ditional precaution, he often wore a bandage 
over his eyes, lest an accidental ray should 
pierce him with new anguish. 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



35 



" And yet, amidst all these complicated and 
bodily distresses, such was his patience and 
serenity of spirit, so hopeful and even cheerful 
was he in the tone of his conversation, so quick 
was his sympathy in all that concerned others, 
that his room, so far from being a place of 
gloom or in any way repellent, was an attrac- 
tive resort to the students of the seminary and 
to his friends in the neighboring college. He 
never murmured, but he often gave thanks. 
Though it gave him pain to partake of his daily 
food, yet heavenly manna brought strength and 
refreshment to his trustful spirit. For long 
years no sight of green fields or blue sky greeted 
his shaded eyes, but visions of beauty, infinitely 
transcending the fairest of earthly prospects, 
were disclosed to the eye of his firm, unfalter- 
ing faith. 

"Thus racked and consumed with bodily 
pains, and thus replenished and comforted by 
divine grace, he lingered on, until a late hour 
one night, while absorbed in study, I was 
stopped by hearing the tolling of the bell which 
announced that his weary, worn and emaciated 
body was at rest, and that his patient, unmur- 
muring spirit was among the just made perfect." 



36 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



The preacher added : " We hear of those who 
say they would dispense with religion during 
life, if they could be sure of its support in a 
dying hour ; but, I ask, What would have been 
the condition of this man, during these long 
years of pain and destitution, but for the sup- 
port and consolations of the Gospel of Christ?" 

Now, dear reader, when you are inclined to 
think yourself the greatest of sufferers, remem- 
ber this young man, or One of old, who cried : 
" Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by ? be- 
hold and see if there be any sorrow like unto 
My sorrow ? " 



How, When, Where, Why ? 



You ask me how I gave my heart to Christ ? 

I do not know. 
There came a yearning for Him in my soul 

So long ago. 
I found earth's flowerets would fade and die, 
I wept for something that could satisfy ; 
And then — and then somehow I seemed to dare 
To lift my broken heart to Him in prayer. 

I do not know — 
I cannot tell you how, 

I only know 
He is my Saviour now. 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

You ask me when I gave my heart to Christ ? 

I cannot tell 
The day, or just the hour — I do not now 

Remember we'll. 
It must have been when I was all alone 
The light of His forgiving Spirit shone 
Into my heart, so clouded o'er with sin ; 
I think— I think 'twas then I let Him in. 

I do not know — 
I cannot tell you when, 

I only know 
He is so dear since then. 

You ask me where I gave my heart to Christ ? 

I cannot say. 
That sacred place has faded from my sight, 

As yesterday. 
Perhaps He thought it better I should not 
Remember where. How I should love that spot. 
I think I could not tear myself away, 
For I should want, forever, there to stay. 

I do not know — 
I cannot tell you where, 

I only know 
He came and Messed me there. 

You ask me why I gave my heart to Christ ? 

I can reply : 
It is a wondrous story : listen while 

I tell \ou why 
My heart was drawn, at length to seek His face 
I was alone, I had no resting place ; 



37 



38 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

I heard of how He loved me, with a love 
Of depth so great — of height so far above 
All human ken, 
I longed such love to share ; 

And sought it then, 
Upon my knees in prayer. 

You ask me why I thought this loving Christ 

Would heed my prayer ? 
I knew He died upon the Cross for me — 

I nailed Him there! 
I heard His dying cry, " Father, forgive !" 
I saw Him drink death's cup that I might live; 
My head was bowed upon my breast in shame, 
He called me — and in penitence I came. 
He heard my prayer ! 
I cannot tell you how, 

Nor when nor where ; 
Why I have told you now. 

F. G. Brown. 



As in nature, as in art, so in grace — it is rou^h treat- 
ment that gives souls, as well as stones, their lustre. 
The more a diamond is cut, the brighter it sparkles; 
and, in what seems hard dealing, there God has no end 
in view but to perfect His people. — Dr. Guthrie. 



To dare is great. To bear is greater. Bravery we 
share with the brutes ; fortitude with the saints.— 
Charles F. Deems. 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



39 



Be Strong in the Lord. 

(Ephesians vi., 10.) 

It is but too common for the Lord's people to 
be indulging needless fears, like David, when 
he said, " I shall one day perish by the hand of 
Saul." But surely such deserve the rebuke 
which our Lord gave to Peter, " O thou of 
little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt ? " If 
thou doubtest the Lord's willingness to save 
thee, say, wherefore did He die for thee, even 
for the chief of sinners ? If thou callest in 
question His power, what is there in thy case 
that can baffle Omnipotence ? If thou art dis- 
couraged on account of thy own weakness, 
know that the weaker thou art in thyself, the 
stronger thou shalt be in Him ; and that " He 
will perfect His own strength in thy weakness." 
If thou fearest on account of the strength and 
number of thine enemies, He meets thy fears 
with this salutary admonition : " Say ye not, 
A confederacy, a confederacy; but sanctify 
the Lord of Hosts Himself ; and ]et Him be 
your fear, and let Him be your dread." 
Only trust in Him; and though weak, He 
will strengthen thee; though faint, He will 
revive thee ; though wounded, He will heal 



40 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

thee ; though captive, He will liberate thee ; 
though slain, He will raise thee up again, and 
give thee victory over all thine enemies. "Be 
strong, then, and very courageous;" abhor the 
thought of indulging a cowardly spirit, as long 
as " Grod's throne is in Heaven " ; and assure 
yourselves, with David, that though your 
" enemies encompass you as bees, in the name 
of the Lord you shall destroy them." — Simeon. 



Trust. 

In quietness and in confidence shall be our strength. — Isa. xxx.. 15. 

Be quiet soul : 
Why shouldst thou care and sadness borrow. 
Why sit in nameless fear and sorrow 

The livelong day ? 
God will mark out thy path to-morrow 

In His own way. 

Be quiet soul : 
There is no need of doubt and crying, 
There is no need of anxious sighing, 

God's love to know. 
Dost thou remember not His dying, 

Who loved thee so? 

Be trustful soul: 
Each day, for thee, the Father careth, 
Each day in sweet compassion shareth 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

Thine every ill. 
Even thy sin for thee He beareth 
And loves thee still. 

Be trustful soul: 
When some dark cloud shuts out before thee 
Light that hath hitherto shoue o'er thee, 

Doubt not nor fear: 
But know God does it to assure thee 

That He is near. 

Be trustful soul: 
Kemember God forgets thee never: 
He who in grace stands waiting ever, 

Thy way to guide, 
Shall surely hold thee, soul, forever, 

Close to His side. 



41 



Bearers. 

When the Princes of Israel brought their 
willing offerings unto the Lord they were ac- 
cepted and given to the Levites for active service 
of the tabernacle. " But unto the sons of Ko- 
hath he gave none, because the service of the 
sanctuary belonging unto them was, that they 
should bear upon their shoulders." And so to 
us who have been taken from active service is 
given the privilege of cheerfully bearing the 



42 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

trials arid discomforts that may meet us (for 
God has a purpose for every life) with a faith 
so bright that it overcomes all difficulties by 
the power of God which, if asked for is always 
given — and I like to think at this Christmas 
season that God gave His most precious gift 
to men so silently that the sleeping world knew 
not that the promised Messiah had come. 

" For behold the good tidings of great joy" 
was brought by the angels to the lonely shep- 
herds — and to the wise men who were waiting 
and watching to receive it. 

And so to-day the Holy Spirit with His peace 
and comfort, comes as silently to the hearts 
alone who are watching and waiting to receive 

Sarah O. Procter. 



Conquer and Rest. 

Why not learn to conquer sorrow? 

Why not learn to smile at pain? 
Why should every stormy morrow 

Shroud our way in gloom again? 

Why not lift the soul immortal 
Up to its angelic height — 

Bid it pass the radiant portal 
Of the world of faith and light? 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

Oh! there is another being 

All about us, all above, 
Hid from mortal sense or seeing, 

Save the nameless sense of love. 

Not the love that dies like roses, 
When the frost-fire scathes the sod, 

But the eternal rest that closes 
Eound the soul that dwells in God. 

Into this great habitation 
Never tear or sorrow came; 

Oh! it is the new creation, 

God its light, and love its flame. 

Up, soul! and dwell forever 
On this hidden, glorious shore; 

Chilled by cloud-shade, never, never; 
Up and dwell for evermore. 



43 



The Hand of God. 

A BBAVE and patient sufferer, afflicted with a 
severe malady, said, in speaking of a visit from 
her physician, the late eminent Dr. Abercrom- 

bie: " When Dr. A pressed the part affected, 

although it increased the pain, I almost felt it 
agreeable, knowing that he was seeking a rem- 
edy for my disease. And is not my disease 
itself God's hand pressing on me ? and ought I 
not to feel it also agreeable, knowing that He 



44 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

is seeking the healing of my sonl ? " In con- 
nection with this thought, read the following 
verses on the hand of God : 

1. u What ? shall we receive good at the 
hand of God, and shall we not receive evil ? " 
Job ii., 10. 

2. "Day and night Thy hand was heavy 
upon me ; my moisture is turned into the 
drought of summer. I acknowledged my sin 
unto Thee." Psa. xxxii., 4, 5. 

3. "Let us fall now into the hand of the 
Lord ; for His mercies are great : and let me 
not fall into the hand of man." II. Samuel xxiv., 
14. 

4. " Have pity upon me, O ye my friends ; 
for the hand of God hath touched me." Job 
xix., 21. 

5. "That they may see, and know, and con- 
sider, and understand together, that the hand 
of the Lord hath done this." Isa. xli., 20. 

6. " Is My hand shortened at all, that it can- 
not redeem ? or have I no power to deliver % " 
Isa. 1., 2. 

7. " I will cause them to know Mine hand 
and My might." Jer. xvi., 21. 

8. " That Thy beloved may be delivered ; 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 45 

save with Thy right hand, and hear me." 
Psa. lx., 5. 

9. " Humble yourselves therefore under the 
mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you 
in due time." I. Peter v., 6. 

10. "Into Thine hand I commit my spirit ; 
Thou hast redeemed me, O Lord God of truth." 
Psa. xxxi., 5. 

11. "If I take the wings of the morning, and 
dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea ; even 
there shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy right 
hand shall hold me." Psa. cxxxix., 9, 10. 



So Tired. 

So tired, I fain would rest: 
But, Lord, Thou knowest best, 

I wait on Thee. 
I will toil on from day to day, 
Bearing my cross, and. only pray 

To follow Thee. 

So tired: my friends are gone 
And I am left alone, 

And days are sad. 
Lord Jesus, Thou wilt bear my load 
Along this steep and dreary road, 

And make me glad. 



46 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

So tired: my heart id low, 
Shadows of coming woe 

Around me fall; 
And memories of sins long wept, 
And hopes denied that long have slept, 

Arifce and fall. 

So tired : yet I would work 

For Thee — Lord, hast Thou work, 

Even for me? 
Small things, which others hurrying on 
In Thy blest service, swift and strong, 

Might never see. 

So tired: yet I might reach 
A flower to cheer and teach 

Some sadder heart; 
Or for parched lips perhaps might bring 
One cup of water from the spring, 

Ere I depart. 

So tired: yet it were sweet 
Some faltering tender feet 

To help and guide. 
Thy little ones, whose steps are slow, 
I should not weary them, I know, 
Nor roughly chide. 

So tired: Lord, Thou wilt come 
To take me to my home 

So long desired. 
Only Thy grace and mercy send, 
That I may serve Thee to the end 

Though I am tired. M. E. T. 



SUNSHINE FOR tfARK HOURS. 47 

The Sure Afterward. 

Heb. xii., 11. 

There are some promises which we are apt 
to reserve for great seasons, and thus lose the 
continual comfort of them. Perhaps we read 
this one with a sigh, and say : " How beautiful 
this is for those whom the Lord is really chas- 
tening ! I almost think I should not mind 
that, if such a promise might then be mine. 
But the things that try me are only little 
things that turn up every day to trouble and 
depress me." Well, now, does the Lord specify 
what degree of trouble, or what kind of trouble, 
is great enough to make up a claim to the 
promise? And if He does not, why should 
you ? He only defines it as " not joyous but 
grievous." 

Perhaps there have been a dozen different 
things to-day which were "not joyous but 
grievous " to you. And though you feel 
ashamed of feeling them so much, and hardly 
like to own to their having been so trying, 
and would not think of dignifying them as 
"chastening," yet, if they come under the 
Lord's definition. He not only knows all about 
them but they were, everyone of them, chas- 



48 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

tenings from His hand : neither to be despised 
and called "just nothing " when all the while 
they did " grieve " you : nor to be wearied of, 
because they are working out blessings to you 
and glory to Him, Everyone has been an un- 
recognized token of His love and interest in 
you : for " whom the Lord loveth He chas- 
teneth." 

If we set ourselves to watch the Lord's deal- 
ings with us we shall often be able to detect a 
most beautiful correspondence and proportion 
between each individual "chastening" and its 
own resulting " afterward." The habit of thus 
watching and expecting will be very comfort- 
ing and a great help to quiet trust when some 
new chastening is sent, for then we shall simply 
consider it as the herald and earnest of a new 
"afte ward." 

What shall Thine afterward be, Lord ? 

I wonder and wait to see, 
While to Thy chastening hand I bow, 
What peaceable fruit may be ripening now, 

Eipening fast for Thee. 

Frances Ridley Havergal. 



Use what talent you possess. The woods would be 
very silent if no bird sang but those which sing best. 






SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 49 

Courage. 

Because I hold it sinful to despond, 

And will not let the bitterness of life 
Blind me with burning tears, but. look beyond 

Its tumult and its strife; 

Because I lift my head above the mist, 
Where the sun shines and the broad breezes blow, 

By every ray and every rain-drop kissed 
That God's love doth bestow; 

Think you I find no bitterness at all? 

No burden to be borne, like Christian's pack? 
Think you there are no ready tears to fall 

Because I keep them back? 

Why should I hug life's ills with cold reserve, 
To curse myself and all who love me? Nay! 

A thousand times more good than I deserve 
God gives me every day. 

And in each one of these rebellious tears 
Kept bravely back, He makes a rainbow shine. 

Grateful I take His slightest gift, no fears 
Nor any doubts are mine. 

Dark skies must clear, and when the clouds are past, 
One golden day redeems a weary year; 

Patient I listen, sure that sweet at last 
Will sound His voice of cheer. 

Then vex me not with chiding. Let me be, 
I must be glad and grateful to the end. 

I grudge you not your cold and darkness, — me 
The powers of light befriend. 

Oelia Thaxter. 



50 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

A Solitary Way. 

1. O give thanks unto the Lord, for He is 
good : for His mercy endureth forever. 

2. Let the redeemed of the Lord say so, whom 
He hath redeemed from the hand of the enemy ; 

3. And gathered them out of the lands, 
from the East, and from the West, from the 
North, and from the South. 

4. They wandered in the wilderness in a 
solitary way ; they found no city to dwell in. 

5. Hungry and thirsty, their soul fainted in 
them. 

6. Then they cried unto the Lord in their 
trouble, and He delivered them out of their 
distresses. 

7. And He led them forth by the right way, 
that they might go to a city of habitation. 

8. Oh that men would praise the Lord for 
His goodness, and for His wonderful works to 
the children of men ! 

9. For He satisfieth the longing soul, and 
filleth the hungry soul with goodness. Paslm 
cvii., 1-9. 

The heart knoweth his own bitterness ; and 
a stranger doth not intermeddle with his joy. 
Prov. xiv, 10. 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 5 1 

For what man knoweth the things of a man, 
save the spirit of man which is in him ? Even 
so the things of God knoweth no man, bnt the 
spirit of God. I. Cor. ii., 11. 

What is man, that Thou shouldest magnify 
him ? and that Thou shouldest set Thine heart 
upon him? Job vii., 17. 

He that loveth father or mother more than 
Me is not worthy of Me ; and he that loveth 
son or daughter more than Me is not worthy 
of Me. Matt, x., 37. 

Come ye near unto Me, hear ye this ; I have 
not spoken in secret from the beginning ; from 
the time that it was, there am I; and now the 
Lord God and His spirit hath sent Me. Isaiah 
xlviii., 16. 

The Lord redeemeth the soul of His servants; 
and none of them that trust in Him shall be 
desolate. Psalms xxxiv., 22. 

There is a mystery in human hearts, 
And though we be encircled by a host 
Of those who love us well, and are beloved, 
To every one of us, from time to time, 
There comes a sense of utter loneliness. 
Our dearest friend is "stranger " to our joy, 
And cannot realize our bitterness. 
" There is not one who really understands, 



52 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

Not one to enter into all I feel ; " 
Such is the cry of each of us in turn. 
We wander in a "solitary way," 
No matter what or where our lot may be; 
Each heart, mysterious even to itself, 
Must live its inner life in solitude. 

And would you know the reason why this is ? 

It is because the Lord desires our love. 

In every heart He wishes to be first. 

He therefore keeps the secret- key Himself, 

To open all its chambers, and to bless 

With perfect sympathy, and holy peace, 

Each solitary soul which comes to Him. 

So when we feel this loneliness, it is 

The voice of Jesus saving, "Come to Me ; " 

And every time we are " not understood," 

It is a call to us to come again; 

For Christ alone can satisfy the soul, 

And those who walk with Him from day to day 

Can never have " a solitary way." 

And when beneath some heavy cross you faint, 
And say, ' ' I cannot bear this load alone," 
You say the truth. Christ made it purposely 
So heavy that you must return to Him. 
The bitter grief, which " no one understands/' 
Conveys a secret message from the King, 
Entreating you to come to Him again. 
The Man of Sorrows understands it well; 
In all points tempted He can feel with you. 
You cannot come too often, or too near. 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 53 

The Son of God is infinite in grace, 

His presence satisfies the longing soul, 

And those who walk with Him from day to day 

Can never have "a solitary way." 



"I could bear anything but this ! " And that, my 
friend, is why God sent this trial. Real affliction 
touches the vital point, known to Him alone. Yon 
cannot bear it. That is true. But God can bear it. 
That is equally true. Your extremity is just His opvor- 
tunity. Because you cannot bear the trial, cast it on 
the Lord. 



The Way. 

When after weary travelling through life's day, 
We reach with trembling feet the higher plain 
Which in the distance seemed hard to gain, 

We backward look and scan our toilsome way; 

We mark the dangerous steep, the hidden snare, 
The diverse roads that led us far astray, 
The tempting toils that held us day by day, 

Until we had no longer heart to dare, 

And think, 'tis well; we would not now retrace 
The destined path our feet so lately trod. 

We turn in trust our few scant years to face, 
And meekly bend us to their chastening rod; 

Hoping, perchance, within them lies some grace, 
Not our desert, to bring us nearer God. 

The late Francis Allen Hillard. 



54 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

Shall we Meet Again? 

[A highly esteemed friend in Chicago sends us the following, 
and says it was made dear to him by having been a favorite with 
his mother, and the text of it was used at her funeral services. 
He is an invalid.] 

The following from the pen of the lamented 
George D. Prentice is well worth reproduction. 
It was regarded as meritorious when it first 
appeared, and age seems to have but added to 
its beauty : " The fiat death is inexorable. No 
appeal for relief from the great law which 
dooms us to dust. We flourish and fade as the 
leaves of the forest, and the flowers that bloom, 
wither, and fade in a day have no frailer hold 
upon life than the mightiest monarch that 
ever shook the earth with his footsteps. Gen- 
erations of men will appear and disappear as 
the grass, and the multitude that throng the 
world to-day will disappear as footsteps on the 
shore. Men seldom think of the great event 
of death until the shadow falls across their 
own pathway, hiding from their eyes the faces 
of loved ones whose living smile was the sun- 
light of their existence. Death is the antago- 
nist of life, and the thought of the tomb is the 
skeleton of all feasts. We do not want to go 
through the dark valley, although its dark 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 55 

passage may lead to paradise ; we do not want 
to go down into damp graves, even with princes 
for bed-fellows. In the beautiful drama of Ion, 
the hope of immortality, so eloquently uttered 
by the death-devoted Greet, finds deep response 
in every thoughtful soul. When about to 
yield his life a sacrifice to fate, his Clemanthe 
asks if they should meet again; to which he 
responds : 4 1 have asked that dreadful question 
of the hills that look eternal — of the clear 
streams that flow forever — of stars among those 
fields of azure my raised spirits have walked in 
glory. All are dumb. But as I gaze upon thy 
living face, I feel that there is something in 
love that mantles through its beauty that can 
not wholly perish. We shall meet again, 
Clemanthe." 



That Things Are no Worse. 

From the time of our old Revolution, 
When we threw off the yoke of the king, 
Has descended this phrase to remember, 
To remember, to say, and to sing: 
' Tis a phrase that is full of a lesson, 
It can comfort and warm like a fire, 
It can cheer us when days are the darkest, 
" That things are no worse, my Sire!" 



56 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

' Twas King George's prime minister said it 
To the king, who had questioned, in heat, 
What he meant by appointing Thanksgiving 
In such times of ill-luck and defeat; 
''What's the cause for your day of Thanksgiving, 
Tell me, pray?" cried the king, in his ire; 
Said the minister, "This is the reason: 
That things are no worse, my Sire! " 

There has nothing come down in the story 
Of the answer returned by the king. 
But I think on his throne he sat silent, 
And confessed it a sensible thing. 
For there's never a burden so heavy 
That it might not be heavier still. 
There is never so bitter a sorrow 
That the cup could not fuller fill. 

And whatever of care or of sadness 
Our life and our duties may bring, 
There is always the cause for Thanksgiving 
Which the minister told to the king. 
' Tis a lesson to sing and remember; 
It can comfort and warm like a fire, 
Can cheer us when days are the darkest, 
" That things are no worse, my Sire!" 



If you cannot frame your circumstances in accor- 
dance with your wishes, frame your will into harmony 
with your circumstances. — Ejrictetus. 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



The Longing for the Sanctuary. 



57 



[Bead Ps. lxxxiv. It is the Invalid's Psalm. The reading of it 
suggested the following, which was first sang as a hymn in the 
chapel of the Sanatorium, November, 1888.] 

My spirit is longing, is longing and faints 
For the courts of the Lord, the assembly of saints, 
To sit in the light of His excellent Word 
And rise in the rapture of praising the Lord. 

There morning and evening together rejoice 
Where elders bow down amid reverent boys, 
The spirit of sanctity broods in the air 
And the Master majestic, though unseen, is there. 

There fathers and mothers of children so sweet 
Bring infants and lay them at Christ's holy feet, 
While worshipping souls, in the bread and the wine 
See symbols of sacrifice deeply divine. 

All birds that can fly through His temple are blest ; 
Most happy are those that can there build the nest, 
In precincts so sacred can rear up their young 
Where songs of salvation and gladness are sung. 

Thou knowest, Lord, how my heart faints for Thee: 
Thou d welFst with the contrite ; stay, Lord, with me: 
Pitch here Thy pavilion, and never remove ; 
Forever float o'er me Thy Banner of Love. 

Charles F. Deems. 



58 SUNSHINE FOR DA.RK HOURS. 

The God of Comfort. 

So far from God's not willing you to come 
to Himself for comfort, what He speaks most 
plainly about is against your going anywhere 
else. He knows you are in need of comfort, 
one from one cause, and another from another 
(every man's trouble is not the same, and even 
if it were the same, it does not touch on the 
same point precisely, or in the same way) ; but 
whatever it is, and however it works, the cry 
is, that we should not forsake Him, the foun- 
tain of living waters, and hew out for ourselves 
broken cisterns, which can hold no water. 

Mind that God is a jealous God ; and He is 
not only jealous of a man's worshipping any 
other God, but of His being put second in any- 
thing, and, amongst other things, in comforting. 

No doubt there is comforting to be had from 
friends, and from books, and from the visits of 
ministers, and from many other sources, but 
they must all be put under God ; otherwise 
they will be like Job's comforters — " miserable 
comforters are ye all." They will give way in 
some unexpected time and manner, and leave us 
with nothing, because we had not God. 

But let us see from Holy Scripture how God 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 59 

Himself appears in this matter of comfort. Do 
we not find Him very plainly here ? 

St. Paul tells us very clearly what God Him- 
self is in this way. 

He had just been wishing grace and peace, 
two very comfortable things, to the Corinthian 
Church; and where were they to come from? 
From God our Father and from the Lord Jesus 
Christ. Then the apostle, as though he could 
not restrain himself when he came to speak of 
these good things as coming from the Father, 
breaks out into this grand ascription of praise 
to Him: "Blessed be God, even the Father of 
our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, 
and the God of all comfort ; who comf orteth 
us in our tribulation" (II. Cor. i., 2-4). 

Then, further on, in chapter vii., verses 5 and 
6, he gives us an example of how God com- 
forted. The comfort came by a human hand, it 
came at a most seasonable time, for trials just 
then were very heavy, but it came from God ; 
and Paul distinctively traced God in the way 
in which his comfort came. " I am filled," he 
says, " with comfort ; I am exceedingly joyful 
in all our tribulation. For when we were 
come into Macedonia, our flesh had no rest, but 



60 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

we were troubled on every side ; without were 
fightings, within were fears. Nevertheless, God 
that comforteth those that are cast down " 
(mark the phrase, it just suits you) " comforted 
us by the coming of Titus." 

Some people speak of God as though there is 
no comfort in Him at all, and that Jesus is to 
comfort us by enabling us to escape from God. 
But St. Paul saw the Father and Son both one 
in this blessed work of comfort ; and if there 
is no other verse in the Bible to comfort a poor 
soul, then II. Thess. ii , 16, 17, ought to do so ; 
they ought to bring a man to God Himself for 
comfort. " Now our Saviour Jesus Christ Him- 
self, and God, even our Father, which hath 
loved us, and hath given us everlasting consola- 
tion and good hope through grace, comfort your 
hearts, and stablish you in every good word 
and work." 

The Psalmist — a man, as you know, of many 
troubles — found his comfort in God Himself; 
not in running away from Him, but in coming 
to Him. It was upon what God said that Da- 
vid relied ; and if that had not been something 
comfortable it would have been of no use to 
him. " Remember the word unto Thy servant, 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 61 

upon which Thou hast caused me to hope. 
This is my comfort in my affliction ; for Thy 
word hath quickened me" (Ps. cxix., 49, 50). 
And again he says in verse 76 — " Let, I pray 
4 Thee, Thy merciful kindness be for my com- 
fort, according to Thy word unto Thy servant." 
The eighty-sixth Psalm is a great mingling 
together of light and darkness. There are 
very deep things there : the soul is spoken of 
even as being delivered from the lowest hell, 
but (rod is equal to all the need. David asks 
to have his soul made to rejoice ; and whom does 
he look to, to do this ? To God ; and because 
he did, he found what he sought, help and com- 
fort. "But Thou, O Lord, art a God full of 
compassion, and gracious, long-suffering, and 
plenteous in mercy and truth. O turn unto 
me, and have mercy upon me ; give Thy 
strength unto Thy servant, and save the son of 
Thine handmaid. Show me a token for good ; 
that they which hate me may see it, and be 
ashamed ; because Thou, Lord, hast holpen me, 
and comforted me." 



Patience had a long way to go, but she was crowned 
at last. — Mrs. Ewing. 



62 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS 

For Divine Strength. 

Father, in Thy mysterious presence kneeling, 
Fain would our souls feel all Thy kindling love ; 

For we are weak, and need some deep revealing 
Of trust and strength and calmness from above. 

Lord, we have wandered forth through doubt and sorrow, 
And Thou hast made each step an onward one ; 

And we will ever trust each unknown morrow, — 
Thou wilt sustain us till its work is done. 

In the heart's depths a peace serene and holy 
Abides ; and when pain seems to have its will, 

Or we despair, oh may that peace rise slowly, 
Stronger than agony, and we be still. 

Now, Father, now, in Thy dear presence kneeling, 
Our spirits yearn to feel Thy kindling love : 

Now make us strong, we need Thy deep revealing 
Of trust and strength and calmness from above. 

Key. 8. Johnson. 



Daily Strength. 

As thy day thy strength shall be, 
This should be enough for thee ; 
He who knows thy frame will spare 
Burdens more than thou canst bear. 

When thy days are veiled in night 
Christ shall give thee heavenly light ; 
Seem they wearisome and long, 
Yet in Him thou shalt be strong. 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 63 

Cold and wintry though they prove, 
Thine the sunshine of His love ; 
Or with fervid heat oppressed, 
In His shadow thou shalt rest. 

When thy days on earth are past 
Christ shall call thee home at last, 
His redeeming love to praise, 
Who has strengthened all thy days. 

Frances Kidley Havergal. 



The Cross-Bearer. 

His Lord gave Caer a cross to carry; 

And, pointing to the distant blue, 
He bade him neither turn nor tarry, 

But haste the stranger country through. 
"And I will meet thee at the portal 

Where grief goes out and bliss begins; 
And thou with Me shall dwell, immortal, 

A sinner saved from all his sins ! " 

And Caer marched on with warbling snatches 

Of Salem 's songs, clear- sounding, high, 
And of this airy fancy catches 

A glimpse of glory from the sky; 
Till in the vale, a band pursuing, 

Fierce and far, surround him there, 
And loud-demanded his undoing, 

And what and whence the load he bare. 

And Caer laid down, with bosom swelling, 
The cross, so heavy now to him — 

"A beam," he said, "to make a dwelling, 
He hewed beside the river's brim ! " 



64 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

Then rose the shout of sinners, scorning; 

They took his cross, they beat him there; 
And left him lying, lowly, mourning, 

A crossless sinner in despair ! 

Then came his Lord at midnight starry — 

Forgave him, kissed him, calmed his strife, 
And gave him back his cross to carry — 

" Oh, leave it only with thy life ! " 
Once more the stranger-country threading, 

He watches more, if less he sings; 
Himself, as well as aliens dreading, 

He to his burden closer clings. 

Last eve he passed with cross uplifted, 

His eyes were sunk, his lips were firm; 
And I need scarce be prophet-gifted 

To see him safe from snare and storm ! 
Saint, within the eternal morrow ! 

I, too, would go where glory waits; 
And learn as thou, without thy sorrow, 

The cross to carry to the gates ! 

Rev. William Wye Smith. 



Where Christ brings His Cross He brings His pres- 
ence; and where He is, none are desolate, and there is 
no room for despair. As He knows His own, so He 
knows how to comfort them, using sometimes the very 
grief itself, and straining it to a sweetness of peace un- 
attainable by those ignorant of sorrow.^-MRS. Brown- 
ing. 






SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 65 

The Praises of the Redeemed Ones. 

" O give thanks unto the Lord, for He is good : for His mercy 
endureth for ever. Let the redeemed of the Lord say so." — 
Psalm cvii., 1, 2. 

This is truly a psalm meant for " all sorts and 
conditions of men." It is not only those who 
are living in ease and comfort, those who are 
in the full enjoyment of health, those who are 
possessed of liberty, those who are safe from 
danger by sea or land, who are called upon by 
the Psalmist to "give thanks unto the Lord." 
To such persons it might seem an easy thing 
to praise God. Their comforts abound ; they 
are free from sorrow or anxiety; their afflicted 
brethren might say to them, "It is nothing for 
you to acknowledge God's goodness ; has the 
Lord not made an hedge about you, and about 
your house, as about Job in his prosperous 
days? You know nothing of the ups and 
downs, the cares and crosses of life! " If such 
is the thought of any reader, it was not the 
thought of the Psalmist. He called not upon 
the prosperous man, but on the tried and 
troubled man, to give thanks, strange as the 
exhortation may seem ; and while in this psalm 
he goes over a wide circle of cases, he points 
out how in every one of these cases the extrem- 



66 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



ity of man was the opportunity of God ; help- 
less and hopeless, the wanderer, the prisoner, 
the sufferer, the mariner, when brought to the 
last stage of distress, " cried unto the Lord and 
He delivered them." As in the case of Israel 
in Psalm cvi., 44, " He regarded their affliction 
when He heard their cry." No difficulty was 
too great, no sorrow too deep to be beyond the 
reach of His mercy; and like a refrain of 
heavenly sweetness, the story of every new 
deliverance ends with the invitation, " Oh, that 
men would praise the Lord for His goodness, 
and for His wonderful works to the children of 
men." Let those who have known that good- 
ness, who have sorrowed and suffered, who 
have cried to the Lord and have been delivered 
praise Him and declare His wonderful works, 
out of the depths of their own experience; 
it is theirs to speak of greater things than the 
untried and inexperienced can imagine. If 
they will be wise and observe these things, and 
understand the loving kindness of the Lord, 
and give thanks accordingly, their testimony 
will not only glorify God, but may be of infinite 
value in cheering some poor soul still in u dark- 
ness ; and in the shadow of death," who may by 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 67 

this their example be encouraged to cry unto 
the Lord in their trouble, and be saved like 
them. But if deliverance from bodily danger 
and temporal distress ought to call forth songs 
of praise, how much more ought the deliver- 
ance of the soul from sin and condemnation and 
eternal death to awaken within us thanks unto 
the great Redeemer, and urge the redeemed to 
devote themselves to His service, " not only 
with their lips but with their lives ! " 

Things unseen and eternal, dangers which 
threaten the welfare of the soul, are as much 
beyond the short-lived troubles of the wanderer 
the captive, the mariner, as the heavens are 
high above the earth. Deliverance from end- 
less ruin and misery, if seen in anything of its 
true magnitude, ought to overwhelm the be- 
lieving soul with wonder, love and praise. 
Such are the feelings which inspire the new 
song of Heaven, that song which no man could 
learn but those which are redeemed from the 

earth. 

" Oh, may our lips repeat that strain, 
And, fired with holy love, 
Return from earth a deep amen 
To those high songs above! " 

M. A. S. M. 



68 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

Only a Day at a Time. 

" How long must I lie here, Doctor '?" plain- 
tively asked a twelve-year old girl after endur- 
ing the torture of the setting of a broken limb. 

" Only a day at a time," cheerily answered 
the wise physician, after a moment's hesitation. 

I read the above lines in a little Sunday- 
school paper a few years since, and they have 
been so helpful to me I wanted to contribute 
them to this " Invalid's Book," and pray that 
they may be of value to those of its readers 
who perhaps are looking ahead and constantly 
endeavoring to pierce the veil of pain and suf- 
fering there may be in store for them, and 
trying to live a lifetime in a moment. 

I heard of a good old church deacon who 
was noted for using the right word in the 
wrong place, speaking in prayer-meeting, one 
evening, of the pleasure he enjoyed in taking a 
prospective view of the future. 

Not all of us enjoy these " retrospective " 
views of the future, but when sick and laid 
aside from active duties our imagination is apt 
to distort the future into one great midnight of 
mental or physical suffering. 

Do we not often suffer more from anticipa- 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 69 

tion of future pain or sorrow than from the 
actual pain of to-day ? 

I well remember the first time I underwent 
the ordeal of having teeth filled. I sat down 
with a martyr-like air, firmly grasped the arms 
of the chair, braced my feet and with every 
nerve drawn to its highest tension prepared for 
the worst. 

My imagination was fortified by the remem- 
brance of all the dental horrors my friends had 
from time to time rehearsed to me, until I was 
in such a state of nervous excitement in antici- 
pation of the agony I must endure that when 
it was over and reaction took place I was ill 
in bed for a week under the care of my physi- 
cian ; and yet all the real pain I suffered during 
the whole process was not equal to one mo- 
ment of toothache. 

So it is in many cases of sickness ; we not 

only retard the progress of our recovery by 

scanning the future so closely for suffering or 

trouble which may never come, but we lose 

| the benefit of the discipline of sickness. 

Let us earnestly strive to learn the lesson 
God wants to teach us through suffering, and 
from even our pains and aches secure some pre- 



70 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS 



cious treasure to be laid up iu Heaven, and let 
us not forget that we live " only a day at a 
time." 

Here is a little motto by Helen Hunt Jack- 
son which it would pay us to commit to mem- 
ory : 

" One day at a time 

Is a wholesome rhyme ; 
A good one to live by — 
A day at a time." 

E. L. V. S. 



Sympathy. 

Theee are, who touched at sight of human woe, 
Are fain to weep when others weep, that so, 
Tear meeting tear, the mingled stream may flow 

Gentlier, for contact kind. 
And some there are, more rare these great of heart, 
That joy with them that joy, though their own part 
In life be joyless else, no envious dart 

Leaving its sting behind. 

And some by nature, some by grace, are kin 

To all that joy or suffer, taking in 

With wide embrace, from out earth's glare and din, 

All loving hearts and lone. 
Yet kindly souls may wound where they would heal, 
Lacking not love, but skill with hearts to deal; 
Or Fancy's changeling power, with hearts to feel 

Whose case she makes her own. 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. t 

For not to weep, where pity's tear were pain, 

Or smile, when answering smiles would tears contain, 

Heart only meeting heart where words were vain — 

To few on earth is given. 
The timid confidence half-way to meet, 
The proud await with tact and patience sweet, 
Sad smiles with tears, or tears with smiles to meet, 

Rarest this gift of Heaven ! 

For perfect sympathy needs perfect love, 

And perfect knowledge, hidden springs to move, 

Wisdom unerring, and the power to prove 

All human joys and woes. 
One only walked this earth, who did embrace 
These full conditions; born of Adam's race, 
Tempted, yet sinless; His the matchless grace 

That all our weakness knows — 

And, touched with sense of our infirmities, 
All-pitiful, all-knowing, and all- wise, 
Divinest power with human sympathies 

Most sweetly doth combine. 
Ah, who need weep alone, since at the grave 
Of Laz'rus Jesus wept ? Who seek to brave 
Unfriended the world's scorn — when He to save, 

Yearning in love Divine, 

Stooped from His throne in glory and became 
The scorn of men; His sacred face from shame 
Hid not, nor spitting ? Ah, He knows our frame, 
Who feels with man as man, 



72 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

Pities as God. Nor ours alone in grief 
This Friend of friends, above ten thousand chief. 
From joy's own burden seeks the heart relief ? 
happy souls that can, 

Like John, upon the breast of their dear Lord 
In friendship lean: secure that He whose word 
Gave wine for water at the marriage board 

Will ear and heart incline: 
Nor count it scorn their whispered joy to share, 
Whose nature He is not ashamed to wear, 
Making their weakness and their wants His care. 

Oh rich., exhaustless mine 

Of love and help, wealth of sympathy ! 
No need beyond His fulness to supply; 
No grief, no joy, too sacred for His eye, 

No wound beyond His cure. 
Come, weary soul, in Jesus there is rest. 
Thy case is hopeless ? Put Him to the test. 
He hath a balm for every heart opprest — 

His promised aid is sure. 

True, earthly friends, though loving, may be blind 
Rough, or unskilful, seeming most unkind 
When most they yearn to comfort; then to mind 

Eecall thy Friend above, 
Whose heart and hand are thine to help and bless; 
Whose blood redeemed thee from the worst distress: 
His perfect sympathy thou shalt confess 

Unfailing as His love ! 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 7 3 

Losses. 

In the pleasant orchard- closes, 

" God bless all our gains/' say we ; 

But " May God bless all our losses/' 
Better suits with our degree. 

The woman poet who thus wrote knew the 
full meaning of loss, of suffering and its sanc- 
tifying power. May it not be a help to us to 
dwell a little upon the fact that sorrows do 
humanize us, that tears are the showers which 
fertilize this world ? We know it is not the 
will of our Father that one of us should perish; 
nay further, we do not believe it to be His will 
that one of us should suffer even ; but, if be- 
cause of broken law we must suffer, it is His 
most blessed will that our pain and loss shall 
help and uplift us, that our strength should be, 
made perfect in weakness. As each loss comes, 
as we realize each day of weakness, let us try 
not to lose the lesson it brings ; let us get out 
of our suffering all it contains for us until "pu- 
rification shall have become the joy of pain ! " 



Ik Thy book, oh Lord, are written all that do what 
they can, though they cannot do what they would. — St. 
Bernard. 



74 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

Be Not Weary. 

Yes ! He knows the way is dreary, 
Knows the weakness of our frame, 

Knows that hand and heart are weary: 
He in all points felt the same. 

He is near to help and bless; 

Be not weary, onward press. 

Look to Him, the Lord of Glory, 
Tasting death to win thy life; 

Gazing on that " wondrous story," 
Canst thou falter in the strife? 

Is it not new life to know 

That the Lord hath loved thee so? 

Look to Him, and faith shall brighten, 
Hope shall soar, and love shall burn; 

Peace once more thy head shall lighten, 
Eise ! He calleth thee — return! 

Be not weary on thy way, 

Jesus is thy strength and stay. 



Be Still, and Know That I am God. 

Psalm xlvi., 10. 
When my precious mother was dying, she 
called her children one by one and gave us, as 
she said, a legacy for each. Mine was : " Be 
still, and know that I am G-od." What a for- 
tune it has been and will be. God has a mean- 
ing in all He does or permits to be done. You 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



75 



notice, too, He does not say merely, " Be still," 
but He tells us something so sweet, so blessed, 
" I am God." Sometimes little children are 
told to "be still," but the best way to make 
them still is for the mother to arrest their at- 
tention by something else. How often have 
we kept our children still by telling them a 
story or by assuring them of our presence ? 
And so God tells us that He is God, and that 
is enough to still every disturbing thing in us. 
God is love. God is our Father, and declares 
that " as one whom his mother comforteth, so 
will I comfort you." Surely this will quiet us. 
— From " Crumbs,''' by Mrs. Bottome. 

"Behold the Man." 

"A man of sorrows." — Isaiah liii., 3. 

Oppressed as we often are with sorrows of 
our own, we think too little of the sorrows of 
Jesus. And yet if we would consider them 
aright, we should find in them the best of all 
cures for our own wounded heart. In Jesus, 
"The Man of Sorrows," we see one in our 
nature, afflicted and oppressed beyond all that 
we can imagine, not for His own sake but for 
ours. u He was wounded for our transgressions, 



76 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

He was bruised for our iniquities," that through 
His atoning blood our souls might be saved 
from sin, and from the sorrow which sin brings ; 
and when by faith we gaze on the wonderful 
sight presented to us in the Cross of Christ, we 
cannot for a moment believe that such suffer- 
ings can be of no avail to redeem these souls of 
ours for which He died. " With His stripes 
we are healed ; " let us not then turn aside 
from this great sight, but gaze on Him lifted 
up for our healing, even as the stricken Israel- 
ites gazed on the serpent in the wilderness. 

But it is not only as our atonement and sub- 
stitute that we look on the Man of Sorrows 
and are healed ; there is that in His very name 
as such, which assures us of a sympathy im- 
possible to be found in any who was not at the 
same time a partaker of our human nature and 
a sharer in human woes. As a man Jesus 
draws very near; as a Man of Sorrows, He 
comes still nearer to us. He comes not to view 
our griefs merely, but to share in them ; not to 
look on burdens only, but to help us to carry 
them, by bearing Himself the heaviest part. 
Let us try to enter into His purpose of mercy 
for our souls ; He has revealed it in His Word, 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



77 



that none of us may sit down in despair, or 
think our sorrows too hard for Him to cure. In 
that most significant attitude of His, with arms 
widely extended on the " bitter cross,'' Jesus 
utters to every afflicted one His tender cry, 
"Come unto Me, all ye that labor, and are 
heavy laden, and I will give you rest." And 
daily, hourly, during all those eighteen cen- 
turies, He has been winning souls to Himself, 
not one of whom has ever been rejected, or 
disappointed of the rest He has promised to be- 
stow. M. A. S. M. 



And sometimes in my house of grief, 

For moments, I have come to stand 
Where, in the sorrows on me laid, 

I felt the chastening of God's hand ; 
Then learned I that the weakest ones 

Are kept securest from life's harms ; 
And that the tender lambs alone 

Are carried in the shepherd's arms. 
And sitting by the wayside blind, 

He is the nearest to the light 
Who crieth out most earnestly 

" Lord, that I might receive my sight." 

Phcebe Oary. 



78 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

Faith in Exercise. 

" He knoweth the way that I take : when He hath tried me, I 
shall come forth as gold." — Job. xxiii., 10. 

"He knoweth the way I take," however 
ignorant I am of the design. The present 
mysterious dispensation is not the effect of a 
blind necessity, it is the appointment of the 
Lord ; He has a design, to the fulfilment of 
which this distressing event leads. Let us 
pause a moment upon this expression: "He 
knoweth the way I take." Is there not some- 
thing truly consoling in it ? Think who it is of 
whom the patriarch is speaking : He knows 
the way; who is this? It is the God and 
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the God of 
all consolation. He who sends His Son with 
this declaration, " The Spirit of the Lord God 
is upon Me, because the Lord hath anointed Me, 
to preach good tidings unto the meek ; He hath 
sent Me to bind up the broken-hearted, to com- 
fort all that mourn ; ' He who says, " Leave 
thy fatherless children, I will preserve them 
alive; and let your widows trust in Me," He 
knows the way I take. Every secret is before 
Him. As the Psalmist says, " Put Thou my 
tears in Thy bottle ; " not one of them is wasted ; 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 79 

He numbers them all. Oh, how consolatory 
are such declarations ! There is something in 
the Word of God which suits a mourner's case. 
We cannot open such passages without being 
sensible of their beauty, and without saying, 
" There is no one who comforteth like the 
Lord!" 



The Daily Bread and the Daily Cross. 

Exod. xvi., 18. 

Lord, as each day my " daily bread " 

I gladly take from Thee, 
Grant that each day my " daily cross " 

Be meekly borne by me. 
No more than what the day shall need 

Nor less of bread is given; 
To-morrow — e'er it dawns, my soul 

May sup with Thee in Heaven. 

No heavier than the day can bear, 

That ' ' daily cross " shall be, 
Nor lighter than in mercy, Lord, 

Thou seest good for me. 
To-morrow 'twill not be the same, 

Or I may lay it down 
At Thy dear feet, to take from Thee 

The victor's golden crown. 

Brida Walkee. 



80 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



His Answers. 
They were living to themselves ; self, with 
its hopes, promises and dreams, still had hold 
of them ; but the Lord began to fulfil their 
prayers. They had asked for contrition, and 
He had sent them sorrow ; they had asked for 
purity, and He sent them thrilling anguish ; they 
had asked to be meek, and He had broken 
their hearts ; they had asked to be dead to the 
world, and He slew all their living hopes; they 
had asked to made like unto Him, and He 
placed them in the furnace sitting by "as 
a refiner of silver," till they should reflect His 
image ; they had asked to lay hold of His Cross, 
and when He had reached it to them it lacerated 
their hands. They had asked they knew not 
what, nor how; but He had taken them at 
their word, and granted them all their petitions. 
They were hardly willing to follow on so far 
or to draw so nigh to Him. They had upon 
them an awe and fear as Jacob at Bethel or 
Eliphaz in the night visions, or as the apostles 
when they thought they had seen a spirit, and 
knew not that it was Jesus. They could almost 
pray Him to depait from them or to hide His 
awfuiness. They found it easier to obey than 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 8 1 

to suffer ; to do, than to give up, to bear the 
Cross than to hang upon it, but they cannot go 
back, for they have come too near the unseen 
Cross, and its virtues have pierced too deeply 
within them. He is fulfilling to them his 
promise, "And if I be lifted up I will draw all 
men unto Me." 

Mks. Prentiss. 



The man who has learned to triumph over sorrow 
wears his miseries as though they were sacred fillets on 
his brow. — Seneca. 

Methinks we do as fretful children do. 

Leaning their faces on the window-pane 

To sigh the glass dim with their own breath's stain, 

And shut the sky and landscape from their view. 

And thus, alas! since God, the Maker, drew 

A mystic separation 'twixt those twain, 

The life beyond us, and our souls in pain, 

We miss the prospect which we're called unto 

By griefs we're fools to use. Be still and strong, 

man, my brother! bold thy sobbing breath, 

And keep thy soul's large window pure from wrong. 

That so as life's appointment issueth, 

Thy vision may be clear to watch along 

The sunset consummation — lights of death. 

Elizabeth Babbett Browning. 



82 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



Thankful for Little. 

A New England divine not long since re- 
lated a personal experience which, as nearly 
as the writer can remember, was as follows: 

While making a round of calls one Thanks- 
giving Day, he dropped into an " Old Ladies' 
Home" just at dinner time. A sumptuous re- 
past was spread before them, and thinking how 
well they were provided for, the minister stepped 
up to one old lady and remarked upon the 
bountiful dinner. "Well — yes — good enough 
I suppose — but there ain't no onions ! " This 
surprising answer turned the clergyman's 
thought in the direction of another home, less 
comfortable than this, where another poor old 
body lived by herself and where Thanksgiving 
turkey was an unknown quantity. He next 
sought this humble abode and found the solitary 
woman dining upon dry corn bread. "Well, 
my good sister," said he, "you haven't much to 
be thankful for to-day.'' "O yes, I have, sir," 
she responded cheerfully; "you don't know how 
thankful I am that the two teeth the Lord has 
left me are opposite each other ! " 



"Take rest: a field that has rested yields a boun- 
tiful crop." 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 83 

The Fallen Snow. 
By Ada Geeding. 
One morning we woke from our slumber 
To find that the Snow-Queen, so fair, 
Had laid her white hands very softly 
And gently on ground that was bare. 

In the midst of the silent night-watches, 
"When the world had grown quiet and still, 

She had fashioned strange forms in the lowlands 
And reared lofty domes on the hill. 

Flake by flake grew the rare, wondrous structures, 

By a skill human hand never knew ; 
In the hush of the deepening whiteness 

The brown, common earth sank from view. 

While I stood by the high window, gazing 

At the silent reaches of snow — 
At the trees and the bushes so well-known 

'Neath their burden bending so low ; 

As I watched the sunbeams stealing 

Athwart the white mountains high, 
And there saw the glorious radiance 

As it flooded the earth and the sky ; 

I thought how much like to God's mercy 

Was the beautiful, fallen snow — 
God's mercy that softens and brightens 

The drear heart so full of earth's woe. 

His sunlight of love falls o'er it — 

O'er the heart made pure as snow, 
It can but reflect the pure glory 

Of Him who doth all things bestow, 



84 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

Wakeful Hours. 

" Thon holdest mine eyes waking." — Ps. Ixxvii., 4, 

If we could always say, night after night. " I 
will both lay ine down in peace and sleep," re- 
ceiving in full measure the Lord's quiet gift to 
His beloved, we should not learn the disguised 
sweetness of this special word for the wakeful 
ones. When the wearisome nights come, it is 
hushing to know that they are appointed. But 
this is something nearer and closer-bringing, 
something individual and personal ; not only 
an appointment but an act of our Father: 
"Thou holdest mine eyes waking." It is not 
that He is not merely giving us sleep : it is not 
a denial, but a different dealing. Every moment 
that the tired eyes are sleepless, it is because 
our Father is holding them waking. It seems 
so natural to say, "How I wish I could go to 
sleep ! " Yet even that restless wish may be 
soothed by the happy confidence in our Father s 
hand, which will not relax the ''hold" upon 
the weary eyelids until the right moment has 
come to let them fall in slumber. 

Now, if we first simply submit ourselves to 
the appointed wakefulness, instead of getting 
fidgeted because we cannot go to sleep, the rest- 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 85 

ing in His will, even in this little thing, will 
bring a certain blessing. And the perfect learn 
ing of this little page in the great lesson book of 
our Father's will, will make others easier and 
clearer. 

Then, let us remember that He does nothing 
without a purpose, and that no dealing is meant 
to be resultless. So it is well to pray that we 
may make the most of the wakeful hours, that 
they may be no more wasted ones than if we 
were up and dressed. They are His hours, for 
"the night is Thine." It will cost no more men- 
tal effort (nor as much) to ask Him to let them 
be holy hours, filled with His calming presence, 
than to let the mind run into the thousand 
"other things" which seem to find even busier 
entrance during the night. 

"With thoughts of Christ and things divine 
Fill up this foolish heart of mine." 

It is an opportunity for proving the real 
power of the Holy Spirit to be greater than the 
Tempter. And He will without fail exert it for 
Christ's sake. He will- teach us to commune 
with our own hearts upon our bed, or perhaps 
simply to "be still," which, is after all, the 
hardest and yet the sweetest lesson. He will bring 



86 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

to our remembrance many a word that Jesus 
has said, and even " the night shall be light 
about us " in the serene radiance of such remem- 
berings. He will so apply the Word of God 
that the promise shall be fulfilled : When thou 
wakest, it shall talk with thee." He will time the 
silent hours, and give song in the night, which 
shall blend in the Father's ear with the unheard 
melodies of angels. 

Frances Ridley Havergal. 



What Sickness Means. 

Loved ones, ye whose tender pity 
Soothes and comforts all my pain, 
Ye are wondering why your praying 
Seems an asking all in vain; 
Ye are wondering why I suffer 
In the spring-time of the year, 
When e'en to the plants and flowers 
Blessed spring-time brings good cheer. 

Loved ones, I am with our Father; 

With a loving, trusting heart, 

He has called me from the great world 

To a little room apart; 

And with looks of love so tender 

That my soul can ask no more, 

' Twixt the world, with all its gladness, 

And myself, He's shut the door. 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 87 

For He has such words to whisper 

As must be in quiet heard, 

For His sweet voice is so low-toned 

Noise might make me lose a word. 

Sickness means, so close to Jesus 

In a little room apart, 

With shut door, that every whisper 

Through the ear glides to the heart. 

Loved ones, the shut door will open 

When the whispering is done, 

And I leave the darkened chamber . 

Not a sad and weary one; 

Not a soul that has been smitten 

By a cruel, stinging rod, 

But a mortal blest and strengthened 

By an interview with God. 



All which I had known of human love; 
all that I had missed ; the dreams from which 
I had been startled ; the hopes that had evaded 
me ; the patience that comes from knowing that 
we may not even try not to be misunderstood ; 
the struggle to keep a solitary heart sweet; 
the anticipation of desolate age, which casts 
its shadow .backward upon the dial of middle 
life ; the paralysis of feeling which creeps on 
with its disuse, the distrust of one's own atro- 
phied faculties of loving ; the sluggish wonder 
if one is ceasing to be lovable ; the growing 



88 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

difficulty of explaining one's self even when it 
is necessary, because no one being more than 
another cares for the explanation ; the things 
which a lonely life converts into silence that 
cannot be broken, swept upon me like rapids — 
all this He understands. 

Elizabeth Stuakt Phelps. 



After the Rain. 

After the rain, my friend, 

After the rain, 
Soon will the Father send 

Gladness again. 

Weeping endures awhile, 

Joy comes at last, 
Bright the world shall smile 

When tears are past. 

After the rain there's cheer ; 

After the rain, 
Skies will be calm and clear, 

Birds sing again. 

Blossoms shall open their eyes 

Blooming and bright, 
Earth be a paradise, 

Life a delight. 

Only be hopeful, sweet, 

Never complain; 
Daisies will kiss your feet 

After the rain. E. K. Storey. 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



89 



Dr. Chalmers to an Invalid Sister. 
" My dear Isabel. — I am glad to hear that 
you are not worse. I hope that you got Clark's 
' Scripture Promises ' ; but whether you have 
got the book or not, you have a far nobler pri- 
vilege in your access to the Bible. I stated that 
you ought not to fatigue yourself by reading ; 
and indeed, in as far as the Bible is concerned, 
I should imagine that when one is sickly and 
unwell the best way of reading it would be, 
here a little, and there a little. A single verse, 
in fact, might, by the power and demonstration 
of God's Holy Spirit, be made the instrument 
of comfort to one's spirit for hours together. It 
is a great matter when the mind dwells on any 
passage of Scripture just to think how true it is. 
This is acting or exercising faith upon it, and 
the exercise of faith is at all times salutary. For 
example, think how true it is that God hath set 
forth Christ as a propitiation for sin, and in the 
course of so thinking it may so be that peace 
shall spring up in the heart ; that guilt shall no 
longer burden the conscience, seeing that an 
atonement hath been provided for it by God 
Himself; that a sense of reconciliation shall 
gladden the soul now at rest, because now rest- 



90 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

ing on the sure foundation of God's own Word ; 
and thus it is that a weary and heavy laden 
sinner may come to great peace and great joy in 
believing. 

" I know that many read the Bible daily, and 
have opened and read it many thousand times 
in their lives, without its producing any such 
effects. Unless the Spirit of God open our 
eyes to behold the wondrous things that are 
contained in the Book of God's law it will re- 
main a sealed book to us. But how comforta- 
ble to think that the Spirit is given to those 
who ask Him from God ; that He is promised 
to guide us into all truth, and to keep all things 
in our remembrance; and that if we ask we 
shall receive, if we seek we shall find, if we 
knock, the door shall be opened to us. There 
is no want, in short, of willingness with God. 
To find His mercy, all that is needful for us is 
to feel our own misery, and to cry for relief. 
He who giveth the ravens their food will hear 
us when we cry ; for be assured that His ear is 
ever open to our prayer." 



What she suffered she shook off in the sunshine. 

Mrs. Browning. 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 9 1 

Soul Hunger. 

Lord, my weary soul sustain, 
Uphold me with Thy grace; 

Earth's clearest pleasures are in vain, 
Unless I see Thy face. 

1 hunger for the bread of life, 
I thirst for righteousness; 

My aching spirit worn with strife, 
Yearns for Thy tenderness. 

Without Thy fond embracing arm, 

I faint, and fall, and die; 
Each shadow fills me with alarm — 

0, hear my plaintive cry. 

And, when Thou hearest, answer, Lord, 

Abiding peace bestow, 
Then shall I rest upon Thy word, 

And Thy salvation know. 

Oecile Sturtevant. 



" Surely He hath borne our griefs, and carried 
our sorrows : yet we did esteem Him stricken, 
smitten of God, and afflicted. But He was 
wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised 
for our iniquities : the chastisement of our peace 
was upon Him ; and with His stripes we are 
healed." — Isaiah liii., 4-5. 



92 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



Rest 
To step out of self -life into Christ- life ; to 
lie still and let Him lift you out of it; to fold 
your hands close and hide your face upon the 
hem of His robe ; to let Him lay His cooling, 
soothing, healing hands upon your soul, and 
draw all the hurry and fever from its veins ; to 
realize that you are not a mighty messenger, an 
important worker of His, full of care and re- 
sponsibility, but only a little child with a Fa- 
ther's gentle bidding to heed and fulfil ; to lay 
your busy plans and ambitions confidently in 
His hands, as the child brings its broken toys 
at its mother's call ; to serve Him by waiting ; 
to praise Him by saying, " Holy, holy, holy," a 
single note of praise, as do the seraphim of the 
heavens, if that be His will; to cease to hurry 
so that you lose sight of His face ; to learn to 
follow Him and not run ahead of orders ; to 
cease to live in self and for self, and to live in 
Him and for Him ; to love His honor more than 
your own ; to be a clear and facile medium for 
His life-tide to shine and glow through — this is 
consecration, and this is rest. 



" Was never payne but it had joy at last 
In the fay re morrowe." 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 93 

Seeking the Cross. 

The path was long and dreary, 

No bud e'er blossomed there; 
The winds were cold and piercing, 

Sad echoes fraught with prayer. 

Onward, forever toiling, 

Seeking the upward way, 
To yonder Cross e'er looking 

Gleaming in Heaven's ray. 

Oh, for but one sweet flower, 

For a breath of blossoms rare, 
For a touch of the lips of the roses, 

For a smile of the lilies fair. 

But no, my path leads onward, 

On yon far Cross mine eyes; 
My feet amid the briars, 

My face toward the skies. 

Behold, an angel calleth, 

"The Cross is close to thee! 
Dear child, look low and nearer, 

And thine eyes the Lord shall see." 

0, joy of joys eternal, 

long-sought Cross divine! 
It rose from a bank of flowers 

And I knelt at the fragrant shrine! 

Ah, how too often, blindly 

We seek great works to do, 
When little duties lie undone 

And joys are hid from view. 

Sara Keables Hunt. 



94 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



Solace in Sickness. 

Clouded with sickness, Lord, languid with pain, 
I cannot work, or meditate, or pray; 
The night is dreary, and forlorn the day. 

From Nature or from Grace I seek in vain 

Some gleam of comfort. Shall I not complain 
Of precious golden sands, which slip away 
Out of Time's hour-glass, touched with no sweet ray 

Of service, or of spiritual gain? 

"Not so!" a Voice replied. " For each dark hour 
Patiently borne, for each sharp pain and ache, 
An added jewel in thy crown shall shake, 

And gathered ' weight' accrue to ' Glory's' dower. 
Sufferings are gifts; accept them for My sake, 
And from earth's sighs Heaven's music shall awake." 

Eichard Wilton. 



How dependent I have been upon the outer 
senses, and what confidence I have reposed in 
the report of the bodily organs of perception ! 
In studying my life, I see my faith in the uni- 
formity of visible nature has been constant and 
uniform. But I cannot give the same report 
of my faith in the uniformity and constancy of 
the laws which govern the unseen. O Lord! 
increase my faith. How much more careful I 
should have been, and how much more useful 
I should be, if my faith in the God of grace 



SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 



95 



were as steadfast as my faith in the God of 
nature. In agriculture I know that the return 
to the farmer is proportional to his outlay. If 
he give a small measure of ploughing, a small 
measure of fertilizing, a small measure of seed, 
and a small measure of attention, the crop will 
be small. I see throughout nature that the 
greater mass draws the smaller to it, that as 
men increase in riches their wealth grows with 
increasing rapidity, that as men acquire in- 
fluence it comes more and more rapidly — as all 
small streams flow together to make great rivers 
and all rivers run down to the sea. Oh, that I 
may perceive and believe that this principle 
holds good in things spiritual \-From the Deems 
Birth-Day Book. 

Not Knowing. 

I KN"OW not what will befall me! 

God hangs a mist o'er my eyes; 
And thus at each step of my onward path 

He makes new scenes arise, 
And every joy He sends me comes 

As a sweet and glad surprise. 

I see not a step before me, 

As I tread on another year; 
But the past is still in God's keeping, 

The future His mercy shall clear, 



96 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 

And what looks dark in the distance 
May brighten as I draw near. 

For perhaps the dreaded future 

Is less bitter than I think; 
And the Lord may sweeten the waters 

Before I stoop to drink; 
Or, if Marah must be Marah, 

He will stand beside its brink. 

It may be He keeps waiting 

For the coming of my feet, 
Some gift of such rare blessedness, 

Some joy so strangely sweet, 
That my lips can only tremble 

With the thanks I cannot speak. 

So I go on, not knowing; 

I would not if I might; 
I would rather walk in the dark with God, 

Than go alone in the light, 
I would rather walk with Him by faith, 

Than walk alone by sight. 

My heart shrinks back from trials 
Which the future may disclose, 

Yet I never had a sorrow, 
But what the dear Lord chose; 

So I send the coming tears back 

With the whispered word "He knows," 






HEALTH. IRJEST. 




WHERE SHALL I GO TO GET WELL? 

This is the question that thousands of chronic invalids are asking, to 
whom health is possible only toy a thorough course of treatment and 
change of habits. They need the comforts of home, tout they need also to 
toe away from home, and under the daily advice and care of skilled phy- 
sicians, to lead them toy the use of natural agencies hack to health. 

The Sanatorium at Dansville, New York. 

MANAGING PHYSICIANS: 

JAMES H. JACKSON, M.D. - KATE J. JACKSON, M.D. 

Is Open Winter and Summer. 

Every arrangement is made to secure health to the sick, and quiet and 
best to those who are worn out and exhausted. 

Here the health and strength seeker finds the life-giviag air of the hills, 
untainted by malaria; pure water; perfect drainage (not a soil pipe in or 
under the buildings); delightful scenery; the comforts and helpful influ- 
ences of a Christian home; experienced physicians devoted to their work; 
trained attendants; all approved forms of treatment scientifically admin- 
istered; a liberal and wholesome table; the equable temperature of steam 
heat throughout ; telephonic and telegraphic facilities ; electric bells ; 
safety elevator. The main building is absolutely fire-proof. 

The kindness and gentleness of the attendants cannot be excelled. The 
skill of the physicians and nurses has the successful history of years for 
its Indorsement. Rev. Charles S. Robinson, D.D., New York City. 

Use my name for anything which can serve the interests of The Sana- 
torium. Do 1 not owe to it all that I am? Claba Barton, Washington, D.C. 

The Sanatorium is the best place this side of Paradise for the tired and 
sick. Rev. J. A. Tbimmeb, Pompton, N. J. 

I am always glad to stand for The Sanatorium and to tell abroad its good 
name. Thomas W. Bicknell, Editor Journal of Education, Boston. 
" I never lose an opportunity to say a good word for The Sanatorium. 
Professor R. H. Thurston, Cornell University. 

Send for Testimonials and Descriptive Pamphlets. Address, with stamp, 
JAMES H. JACKSON, M.D., Dansville, Liv. Co., N. Y. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



022 168 894 6 



WORKS BY CHARLES I dsmr^D^mai 

Pastor of the Church of the Strangers, New York, 



CHRISTIAN THOUGHT. 

This is a Bi-monthly, So pp., handsomely printed, containing the L 

Papers read before the American t'nstitute of Christian Philosop:, 
many other articles. Read the following opinions : 
President Porter: " So many able articles, some of them very able," Joseph 
Cook:, Boston: "Many brilliant and powerful pages." Prof. Smith, University 
of Virginia: "I had no idea the journal was so U7icommonly excellent.'' 
Dr. Waylakd: " The best Christian thought of the day." Rev. Dr. TJrink 
house: " There is no more worthy publication." Rev. Dr. Edwards: "Brimful 
of intensely interesting and instructive matter.'' $2.00 a year; Clergymen. Si. 50. 
Specimen copy, 25 cents. Contents of Volumes 1, 2 and 3 sent on application. 

THE HOME ALTAR. 

An appeal in behalf of Family Worship, with Prayers and Hymns for the Family 
and a Calendar of Lessons from Scripture for every day in the yeai 
Edition. Cloth. 28 1 pages. Price 75 cents. 

From the many notices the following are selected: 

" This little volume we have read again and again, and cannot speak too well 
of it. There will be hardly any need of preaching on family prayers where i 
culates."— Bishop McTyeire. 

" It seems impossible to read it and continue delinquent in regard to the dttty 
in question. The prayers are all catholic and scriptural." — Rev.. Dr Summers. 

" The appeal contained in it for family worship is the most powerful and per- 
suasive we have ever read, and it seems to us must be irresistible." — Pev. W. H. 
Hunter. 

" It is one of the ablest essays on the subject we have ever read." — Rf' 
Crook- 



WHAT NOW ? 



!adie» 



This is the title of a beautiful book intended to be a present to youn^ 
quitting school and entering life. 
Whole classes in some of our leading institutions have received copies as pres- 
euts on graduating. As a Christmas or Birthday present, or token of kind regard 
for a young lady, nothing is more appropriate. Cloth. 126 pages. Price 50 cts. 

DR. DEEMS'S SERMONS. 

Forty-eight discourses, comprising Sunday morning sermons, preached from the 
pulpit of the "Church of the Strangers," New YGrk. Cloth. Svo, 304 pp 

WEIGHTS AND WINGS. 

We give the following as a specimen of the tone of all the notices of the 
which we have seen : 

" A very handsome volume, whose contents are well worthy of the faultless 
dress in which the publishers have sent them forth. No professing Christian who 
reads it thoroughly can remain in doubt as to whether his Church membership 
is a help or a hindrance to his pastor — a 'weight or a wing'— as he prosecutes his 
laborious and painfully responsible mission. The whole tendency of the book is 
to improve the relations of communicants to their pastors; and it would be remun- 
erative to the latter to urge its'circulation. There is a freshness and force about 
these forty -five chapters which would never arouse the suspicion that the writer 
is the pastor of a large and popular city church, and at the same time the editor 
of one of the foremost magazines of the country." — Southern. Christian Ad-;' 
Cloth. 27a pages. Price $1.00. 

EVOLUTION: A SCOTCH VERDICT. 

This book contains the substance of the lecture delivered by Dr. Deems, at 
Chautauqua, before the German Theological School of Newark, and else- 
where, with much added matter. It is the latest discussion of the qi 
pages, paper cover, 20 cents. 

THE GREATER BLESSEDNESS. 

A new tract by.Rev, Dr. Deems. Five cents. 

book, no matter where published or advertised. "~Send for circulars. 

WILBUR B, KETCHAM, Publisher, 71 Bible House, N 



